Requiem JosefMick Slash
by Emerald72
Summary: Book two of Days of Blood Wine and Roses. Josef/Mick Slash ie Male/Male pairing
1. Prologue

Title: Requiem (Book two of Days of Blood Wine and Roses)

Pairing: Josef/Mick

Rating: Will range from PG13 to NC17

Warnings: May contain violence, language, adult themes, drug use, and male/male sex scenes.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognisable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Summary: The continuation of the story begun in Days of Blood Wine and Roses.

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**Prologue**

_Winter 2085_

It was a bitterly cold night, around 2.a.m, when Mick awoke to find Josef scurrying about in the kitchen. Brow furrowed with perturbed concentration, opening, and closing doors, and drawers of cupboards.

Mick stood watch for a moment, one hand at the ready if need be. Lest Josef launch into a fit of blinding rage when he couldn't find whatever imaginary object it was he was searching for. Necessitating the need for Mick to step in and offer physical restraint.

There was something different though. Mick continued to keep a close eye, trying to put his finger on what had changed.

_Josef's movements had a sense of purpose to them._

And then Josef turned to Mick, his face couched in recognition, and spoke the first words Mick had heard him utter in almost ten years.

"I guess we're not in Kansas anymore then?"

Mick had tried to mentally prepare for this moment over the preceding months, and years. Constantly running through a checklist of possible ways he would respond, in preparation. And now that it had finally come to pass, he realised he didn't have a clue how to react. So he did the first thing that came to mind. He fainted.

Just before Mick hit the floor two distinct thoughts went through his mind. How happy he was that Josef was back. And he was never going to hear the end of this from him.


	2. Chapter 1

"I still can't believe you fainted." Josef lay on his back on the floor; Mick stretched out alongside, and shook his head as he stared up at the ceiling above.

"I know, Josef," Mick tutted in pretend sympathy, his forehead buried against Josef's shoulder, "it's only been, what, four years?"

Four years, time spent rebuilding a shared eternity. Mick caressed a hand down the length of Josef's naked form. Despite his show of scoffed indignation, and the sharpness of the banter that passed between them, Mick no longer took anything for granted. Vampire or not, the time Mick had spent watching Josef crashing about in the lost wilds of his own mind, had proven one thing. Eternity could still be fleeting.

Outside a lone wolf howled at the nighttime sky, prompting Josef to trail a mock extravagant hand through the air, and remark, "Listen to them, the children of the night, what sweet music they make."

"You idiot." Mick snorted a quick laugh, and shook his head.

"What?" Josef turned his head towards Mick, brow arched, and a teasing grin on his face, "You're the one who decided we should set up home in Chateau Dracula."

"Well it just seemed fitting at the time." Mick propped himself up on one shoulder, and shot Josef a locked lip smirk of faux annoyance.

"Suitably maudlin for you, was it?" Josef continued his line of good natured teasing, one finger tapped pointedly against the side of Mick's face.

"Oh shut up," Mick rolled his eyes, and bent his head to silence any further remarks with his mouth pressed firmly against Josef's own.

"Now who's being an idiot, Mick," Josef managed to mumble, through a coordinated attack of lips, and fangs.

And then, in one fluid, inhuman rush of movement, Josef suddenly shifted the weight of his body to lie over Mick. And pressed his lips to Mick's ear to whisper three simple words,

"I love you."

"Say that again." Mick's words came out as a half hissed groan, hips arching upwards as Josef began to move against him,

"I love you." Josef repeated the words as he pushed Mick's legs back against his chest, the head of his cock pressing against Mick's passage. And then he was thrusting the length of himself into Mick's body, and pulling Mick up into a seated position, all in the same practiced move. Penetration made easy by the sticky mess of fluids already accumulated from their most recent coupling.

Arms drawn tight around Mick's neck, Josef buried his face against the side of Mick's neck, and whisper hissed a single, passion filled command,

"Ride me."

Mick wasted no time obeying Josef's direction. Heels dug into the floor behind for leverage, Mick drove himself hard onto Josef's cock. Hips grinding back and forth, the pace of his movements becoming increasingly frantic, he clung to Josef's back. Whimpering and moaning his way through his own heated declarations of love, and devotion. Head thrown back; and eyes closed in rapture.

Mick's vocalisations became increasingly inhuman, fangs bared in a grimace of pleasure. Josef took a moment to revel in Mick's display, pausing to brush away damp strands of hair plastered to Mick's sweat slicked brow.

Josef watched as Mick's equilibrium seemed to shatter. Mick's body arched upwards, drawn by an invisible string stretched tight above. And then he was sailing over the edge, and falling into an abyss of pleasure, fangs sunk deep into the side of Josef's neck. Moments later, Josef gave a single, sharp cry of release, and fell into his own climax.; biting into the flesh of his own wrist as he growled, and bucked his way through the rhythm of his own release.

"Happy Anniversary." Josef trailed kisses along the line of Mick's jaw, and ran his fingers up and down the length of Mick's back when they were both spent.

"Mm," Mick mumbled a noncommittal reply, his body still humming with pleasure, "how long has it been now, eighty years?"

"Too long," Josef placed another series of kisses across Mick's face, and neck, "we should separate."

"Yeah, we should." Mick snorted a quick laugh, and shook his head at Josef's teasing, "How about we fuck some more first though."

"Now see, that's how I know we've been together far too long," Josef leant back, and shot Mick an arched brow grin.

"Oh really, and how do you figure that, Josef?" Mick rolled his eyes in response, and then drew Josef back closer, mouth seeking heated contact with Josef's own.

"You've started to read my mind." Another teasing edged laugh, and then Josef's tone shifted salacious. "Get on your hands and knees. I want to take you from behind this time."

Just as they had both managed to scramble into position, proceedings were bought to a halt by the sound of someone rapping sharply at the front door.

Suddenly they were both on full alert. Apart from the local Gypsies, paying superstitious tribute, and hawking their wares, no one ever came by. Not at night, especially, and not at this late hour.

"I'll…"

"…No, I'll get it."

Mick grabbed a robe from the back of the couch to wrap around his naked form, and made his way to the door, movements fine honed, and senses sharpened with wary precision

"This had better be…"

Mick's planned pre-emptive warning to their mysterious night time visitor was halted in its tracks as he opened the door. And found him self confronted by the image of a familiar girl child, now grown into a striking young woman.

And then the image spoke.

"Hello, Uncle Mick."  
_  
Roisin._

_------------------------------------------------------------_

Mick's initial shock having subsided, Roisin found herself being grabbed roughly by the arm, and quickly manhandled back up the winding path she had just come down. Out of ear shot, and away from Josef.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Well gee it's nice to see you after all this time too, Uncle Mick," Roisin shook Mick off, and turned to face him. Arms folded across her chest, and a distinct note of challenge creeping into her voice.

"Fourteen years, Roisin," Mick ignored Roisin's defiant stance, "Fourteen years, and we hear absolutely nothing from you, and now you turn up here, unannounced, and expect…"

"…I don't expect anything," Roisin intercepted Mick's speech with a hurried protest, "and it's not like you exactly tried looking for me, or contacting me in any way."

"Maybe I had other things to think about at the time." A hastily muttered reply, eyes quickly averted. And then Mick found his thoughts snapping back to the past, a series of fleeting images conjured up.

A mother begging, pleading for assistance, nights spent trawling the streets for any sign of her daughter. And he incapable, powerless, rejecting her cries for help. Repeating words, no time to consider anything else, "Josef is my only concern now, Katherine."

"Uncle Mick?"

Roisin's voice pulled Mick from his private reverie. Tone and expression laced with contrition, Roisin continued,

"I'm sorry, ok. I shouldn't have just come barging in like this. I know how difficult things have been for you and Uncle Josef…"

"…How could you, you haven't been anywhere near us for more than a decade." Mick's voice brimmed with accusation.

"We've kept watch over you, the both of you. It's how I knew Uncle Josef had gone…" Roisin hesitated to use the word 'insane', "it's how I know Uncle Josef wasn't in his right state of mind for all those years."

Cautiously, Roisin took a step towards her Uncle, and reached out to place a sympathetic hand on his arm. Mick would have none of it.

"Not in his right state of mind, yeah I suppose that's one way of describing someone who communicates in nothing but shrieks and howls for almost a decade." Mick snorted an incredulous laugh, and brushed Roisin's hand aside, disapproval evident in his tone of voice, "And what do you mean 'we', Roisin? The Legion, you've had those mortals keeping track of us?"

"No, not…" Roisin broke off mid sentence, eyes darting across her Uncle's face, studying the expression found there, "You blame me, don't you?"

"Well, do you see anyone else around here I can blame." Mick threw Roisin a pointed look, arms folded across his chest, and jaw set in a determined line.

"Uncle Mick, that isn't fair." It was clear from the expression on Roisin's face that she hadn't been expecting to face accusations of this nature, let alone take responsibility.

"No, Roisin," Mick took an abrupt step towards his niece, voice tense, and expression seething, "I'll tell you what isn't fair. Having to sit by and watch someone you love crashing about in the depths of insanity isn't fair. No communication, no reasoning, having to chase after them night after night, seeing them standing outside baying at the moon like an animal, trying to get by on the smallest glimmer of hope that they're still in there somewhere. Christ, there's not anywhere near enough blame for what you did to us."

"I'm sorry I didn't…" For a moment Roisin struggled to speak, swallowing back repeated lumps that rose in her throat, and threatened to wet her cheeks with tears. And then the words seemed to pour out of her, vowels and consonants rushing forth in a defensive stream. "If it wasn't my leaving that pushed Uncle Josef over the edge, it would have been something else. You tried to keep stuff hidden from me back then, but I wasn't stupid, I could still see what was going on. I did what I thought was best for everyone at the time. You can't fault me for that, Uncle Mick. And you can't blame me for what happened to Uncle Josef either."

"No," Mick averted his eyes, and let out a reluctant sigh of agreement, "I don't suppose I can."

"Then, can I just come inside," Roisin pleaded, "Please, it's freezing out here, and I am still mortal, and I have missed you, and Uncle Josef so much over the years…"

"…Alright," Mick abruptly relented, and gestured a thumb towards the modest, stone brick house he now shared with Josef, "come on."

Without waiting to hear anymore from his niece, Mick turned heel and strode off.

Roisin thought about saying something else then, and quickly dismissed the idea, falling into silent line with her Uncle instead.

"Wait here," Mick instructed when they reached the front door, "I want to have a word with him first."

"Sure, I understand." Roisin swallowed back more lumps risen in her throat, and quickly nodded her agreement. Her voice cracking, and eyes watery with the threat of tears.

Seeing the emotion etched on his niece's face, Mick softened his harsh stance towards her.

"Look," Roisin heard Mick say to her then, emphasising his point with a series of hand gestures "I'm sorry, ok? I didn't mean to be so angry with you back there. It's just…I've been through a lot with your Uncle Josef since you left, it was hard at times, you know. And now you, turning up here out of the blue like this…this isn't easy for me, Roisin."

"…Yeah," voice still cracking with emotion, Roisin wiped the back of a hand over her eyes, and forced a smile, "I know, I can imagine it wouldn't be."

Roisin also imagined that her Uncle's use of the term 'hard at times', was nothing other than a euphemistic understatement. Even so she didn't press any further. She already knew most of the details, having read the Order's security reports that had been passed on in secret to her.

They both fell into a rhythm of awkward silence then, the air around them growing heavy with choked back emotion. Until Mick broke through the disquiet with a hastily muttered, "I'll be back soon," and disappeared inside.

"Ah, you're back," Josef greeted the sight of Mick walking towards him with casual breeze. One eyebrow cocked, and a wine glass held loosely between index and middle fingers, "I was beginning to think our Gypsy friends had spirited you off somewhere."

"No," Mick gave a brief laugh, and walked over to where Josef sat. Legs outstretched and back leant against the sofa behind him. His own silken robe pulled loosely around his naked form, "I'm still here."

"Ok," Josef's brow furrowed with puzzlement as Mick sat astride his lap, foreheads rested together, and arms drawn tight around Josef's neck, "mind telling me who that was at the door then?"

For a moment Mick was tempted to say 'no one', leaving Roisin to stand there outside in the cold, with Josef none the wiser to her presence.

"Someone from the past caught up with us," Mick answered with instead, brushing the back of a hand down the side of Josef's face, "I just wanted to make sure you were ok before I let them in."

"Well that's very kind of you, dearest," Stifling a quick laugh, Josef held Mick at arms length, and took a moment to study the expression on Mick's face. Attempts at sounding matter of fact belied by the unabashed grin that crept over his features, "but I wasn't really planning on having another breakdown quite as spectacular as the last one anytime soon. Besides, I think one bout of insanity every couple of hundred years is more than enough, don't you?"

"Yeah," Mick offered a quick laugh of his own, and placed a kiss on Josef's mouth, "I'd better go let our guest inside then, before she freezes to death out there."

Mick returned moments later with a familiar face alongside. The last time Josef laid eyes on Roisin she was all cropped hair, and heavy black lined eyes. Now here she was standing before him. Long blonde hair pulled up into a loose bun, and complexion scrubbed fresh. Layers of puppy fat having long since melted away, replaced by a well honed musculature that gave her somewhat of an athletic appearance.

Even without the layers of paint and powder she was so fond of as a teenager; Roisin's face was recognisable to Josef in an instant,

"Jesus." Josef clapped a hand over his mouth and somehow managed to look shocked, amazed, surprised, and perturbed all in the same expression.

"No," Roisin took a tentative step towards her Uncle, her face an open book; easily read, "it's just me. Were you expecting the messiah were you?"

"Still little Miss smart mouth then, I see." Josef acid tongue witted, and raised an eyebrow at his niece.

For a few moments nobody else spoke, each caught up in their own memories, and emotions. And then Roisin broke the ice. Her next words already formed on her lips.

"I imagine you probably have a few questions to ask me."

"Well that's one way of putting it, I suppose." Josef quipped with trademark style, and raised the glass dangling from his fingers in a toasting gesture.

"First things first," Mick cut into the conversation then, addressing his niece direct, "You said someone's been following us these past years, if not the Legion, then who?"

"Those whom I have been working for," Roisin replied, nonchalant. "The Order of Dracul."

Mick exchanged a quick glance with Josef. Judging by their sharp intakes of breath, and slack jawed expressions, it was apparent that neither of them expected the answer they'd just been given.

"Look," Roisin tried to keep an open stance as she took another step forward, her hands held out in front of her, gesturing for placation, "I know my being here has probably come as a bit of a surprise..."

"…Well that's what you call an understatement." Josef interrupted, and threw Roisin a pointed smile.

Roisin purposefully ignored her Uncle's remark, and reached into her Jacket pocket to draw out a folded slip of paper. "It's an invitation," she offered by way of explanation, as she held out the note for Josef to take, "for you, and Uncle Mick, tomorrow night. Auguste wants to speak to the both of you. He's booked out the Corinthia Grande's top floor conference rooms especially for the occasion. Everything's arranged…transport, accommodation, fresh catered supplies of blood. We've been planning on making contact with the both of you for months now."

Roisin let her voice trail off, realising she was on the verge of rambling.

At the mention of Auguste Vasilescu's name, Mick had quickly moved to sit by Josef's side. A steadying arm drawn around Josef's waist, and hand rested lightly against Josef's hip.

"Who's we, Roisin?" Still seated next to Josef, one hand tracing worried circles over Josef's back, Mick challenged Roisin point blank then.

"I think you already know the answer to that question, Uncle Mick," Roisin replied with a steady voice, "just not in the way you might be thinking. Auguste has been a mentor to me over the years."

"I bet he has," Josef remarked under his breath as he reached for the decanter on the table in front, and poured himself another generous serve of Scotch.

"I probably should be getting back to the Hotel," Roisin directed to no one in particular. Punctuating the awkward silence with the words she spoke, "Auguste must be looking for me by now."

Offering her goodbyes, Roisin gave one last nervous smile, and began to take leave.

"Wait," Josef called after her.

Roisin stopped in her tracks, and slowly turned back to face her Uncle. His expression couched with hope, and despair, Josef's unspoken question was still easy to read.

"We lost track of her about a year ago. Last we heard she was in Africa somewhere."

"Keeping the natives restless no doubt," Josef interjected with an arched brow grin.

"Yeah, something along those lines," Roisin managed to raise a genuine laugh at her Uncle's off the cuff humour. "Did you know she married Pierre Lamont?" She asked then, her tone of voice shifting to an easier level."

"No we didn't," Josef and Mick both seemed taken aback with this latest revelation, "When?"

"Three years ago, just before she stopped looking for me." Roisin replied, still trying to maintain a relaxed note of conversation, in spite of the emotional turmoil etched across her face. "You grew your hair long as well,"

Feeling the need to shift the conversation to simpler matters then, Roisin gestured towards Josef's now shoulder length strands, and offered her compliments.

"Thanks," Josef raised a genuine smile, and then tossed a thumb in Mick's direction, his voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper. "It's his fault."

"What am I getting the blame for now?" Mick piped up.

"Nothing, my beloved." Josef prodded Mick's ribcage with a finger, "I was just telling Roisin my new hair length is entirely your fault."

"Oh yeah," Mick shot Josef a puzzled look, "How do you figure that then?"

"Well you're the one who only managed to cut my hair three times a year, Mick." Josef parried with casual breeze.

"Mainly because I got sick of you embedding the scissors in my neck," Mick rolled his eyes, and huffed with pretend indignation.

"Well it doesn't matter now," Josef waved a dismissive hand, mischief still lurking beneath the polite smile on his face, "I've managed to get over the shock of looking like the modern day Vampire's equivalent to a Hippy."

Caught up in the comforting familiarity of their back and forth banter, neither of them noticed Roisin quietly slip away, until she was gone.  
Later that evening Mick sat on the couch, legs either side of Josef seated on the floor in front, and ran a brush through Josef's hair. Pausing every so often to plait strands, and twist tendrils around his fingers.

"What the hell are you doing back there?" Josef looked over his shoulder, and demanded to know.

"Nothing," Mick offered a distracted shrug, and continued twirling Josef's tresses around his fingers.

"Well whatever nothing is, Mick," Josef stretched for a moment, and then leant his head back against Mick's lap, "stop it, it's annoying. It feels like you're doing some kind of weird ass origami."

"My deepest apologies, your Lordship," Mick rolled his eyes, and tried to act steadfast, the corners of his mouth drawn into the start of a grin, "I had no idea me brushing your hair was such an ordeal."

"Oh shut up," Josef rallied back with good natured humour.

"So, what did you think of our surprise guest earlier?" Mick draped his arms around Josef's chest and asked matter of fact then. Taking care to keep his tone as even as possible.

"Give me another ten years to process it, and I'll get back to you." Josef snorted a laugh, and reached for the bottle of Scotch on the floor next to him.

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Mick raised his eyes skyward, and nodded his understanding, "I think I need shock absorbers for a moment like that."

"Will this do?" Josef arched an eyebrow, and grinned as he handed Mick a freshly poured measure of Scotch.

"For now," Mick pretended to sigh reluctantly, as he accepted the drink from Josef's hand.

And then Mick was on his feet, and draining the contents of his glass in two quick gulps. Before reaching down and pulling Josef up alongside him.

"Come on," Mick tugged impatiently at the sleeve of Josef's shirt, "we're going to bed. You need something to take your mind off things, and I'm still horny, so…"

Mick completed the sentence with a trailing hand gesture.

"Good thinking," Josef pretended to weigh up Mick's suggestion, and tapped a thoughtful finger against his lips for a moment, "I'll meet you in the bedroom."

And then Josef took of with Mick following close behind, dive tackling him onto the bed. As far as they were both concerned matters were closed, for the time being at least.

_------------------------------------------------------------_

"We don't have to do this you know." Mick absentmindedly adjust Josef's collar, and for the umpteenth time that evening, repeated that which Josef himself was already well aware.

"I know, Mick," Josef indulged Mick a quick smile, and nodded his gratitude at Mick's obvious concern, "It's ok. I want to hear what Auguste has to say for himself."

Josef's voice bristled with determination, his contempt for Auguste evident in the darkened expression that had fallen across his features.

"Yeah, ok," Mick drew his arms around Josef's shoulders, and leant back, "just don't go throwing your weight around."

"Moi?" Josef grinned, and arched an eyebrow at Mick, "I wouldn't dream of it. I shall be the very epitome of grace and decorum."

Josef completed his words with a flourishing hand, and the offering of another raised eyebrow. And then he was instructing Mick to, 'go and bring the car around, I'll meet you out the front', and moving off to finish preparing for the evening ahead.

"Josef, wait." Mick snatched Josef's arm as he went to leave, "are you sure you're ok with this?"

"Mick," Josef took a step towards Mick, and brushed the line of Mick's jaw with the back of his hand, "I'm fine, ok? Stop fussing."

"Yeah, I know. It's just…" Mick's voice trailed off, brow furrowed with frustration. He didn't think he was ever going to be able to adequately express how difficult those wilderness years had been.

Mick wondered then if he would ever stop fearing a return to those dark days. Josef's reemergence from the depths of insanity had been just as sudden as his descent into it. A shifting of neurons, a reconnecting of synapses and Josef had returned to Mick just as easily as he had gone. Mick figured it would be just as easy for Josef to slip back into the depths. The thought of that terrified him far more than he cared to admit.

"I know, Mick." Josef acknowledged Mick's worry with the stroke of a hand down Mick's arm, "Look, I'm sorry, ok, for everything. For what you had to go through, for all the crap you had to put up, for all the years that were lost…"

Josef scrubbed frustrated hands over his face, his expression darkening with a mixture of anger, and disgust. At least he had the luxury of being out of his mind and blissfully unaware. Mick was the one who had borne the brunt of those unhappy times.

"Hey," Mick shifted into Josef's space, "for better or worse, remember."

"I thought it was for eternity?" Josef tossed Mick an arched brow grin, his quick witted attempt belied by the tender note in his voice.

"Yeah, that too." Mick pretended to roll his eyes with mock exasperation. And then he was reaching for Josef's hand, pressing pads of fingers against tender lips, and drawing Josef into an embrace. Needing to feel the reassurance of Josef's solidity pressed against his own.  
Josef yielded to Mick's attentions, arms drawn tight around Mick's waist, and body molding with his. In the relative quiet of the room Josef listened to Mick's heart as it beat out an uncertain rhythm, Mick's pulse all together far too weak, and thready.

"Come on," Josef reluctantly disengaged himself from Mick's arms, "we really should get going. You haven't fed properly, and I'm assuming this little get together of Auguste's will be catered for. Besides that if we stand here and act any sappier, one of us is likely to break into a Barry Manilow song."

Josef took another step back then, head cocked, and brow raised in a quip pointed expression, his added indignant eye roll informing Mick exactly what he thought of the prospect of that particular scenario.

Mick snorted a laugh, and for a moment was sorely tempted to tease Josef for his singing abilities, or lack thereof. Too late Josef had already turned heel and started to saunter away. Tossing Mick another quick instruction over his shoulder to fetch the car, and meet him out front.

Outside Mick was greeted by the familiar site of an old woman standing vigilant watch at the end of the path leading up to their residence. One of the Cigány, the local population of Gypsies in Hungary, dressed in traditional costume. Puffed sleeve blouse, and bright coloured skirt adorned with a jangling array of gold coins. A green scarf tied around her head, covering what remained of her steel wool hair. Twisted and gnarled body bent over a walking stick, and hooded eyes peering out from beneath a mask of deep etched wrinkles.

The figure spoke, and Mick found himself having to stammer out an awkward reply, trying to explain yet again that he couldn't understand the language she spoke.

"My grandmother, she asks if the other one he is still well again." A young girl, accompanying the old woman quickly translated. No more than fifteen years of age, with dark hair pulled into a loose pony tail, and body clad in more modern garb of jeans and roll neck sweater, a heavy woollen coat pulled tight around her thin frame, she cast a diminutive form.

"Tell your grandmother, thank you, and he's fine." Mick smiled, and reached into his pocket to draw a handful of crumpled Euros from his wallet, pressing the money into the girl's hand.

A brief hesitation, followed by another exchange of romantic sounding words with her grandmother, and Mick's offering was accepted with quiet gratitude.

"My brother, he reaches eighteen in a month from now," the girl informed Mick then, barely able to suppress the grin that formed over her features, pressing her fist against her mouth to stifle a girlish laugh. "Our cousin, Dimitri, is jealous that it will not be him who gets to come to you first. They are fighting about it all the time."

Mick stifled a laugh of his own. Eighteen was the age when local gypsies would offer themselves as willing freshies. It had become a real point of honour amongst the gypsy youth to be chosen for such a role. Jealousy and arguments abounded between those who had reached the required age, and those for whom their eighteenth year seemed a distant prospect.

It had not always been that way. Mick remembered back to his first encounter with the Cigány. He had awoken one evening, to the sound of hysterical sobbing coming from a young gypsy girl tied to one of the trees that surrounded the house. Her tear stained face and terrified struggle clear indications that she had not been placed there of her own accord.

The local Gypsy population had found themselves taken by complete surprise when the girl was released, and returned to them completely unharmed. Not one drop of her blood having been spilt. A delegation of Cigány elders had been dispatched, post haste, to enquire as to the exact nature of this rejection, was the girl not pleasing enough, should they perhaps have offered a male victim instead.

Mick had been taken aback by the Gypsies almost fervent insistence that he accept one of their own as a sacrificial victim, explaining as best he could with the language barrier, that he had absolutely no interest in killing anyone; especially not an innocent.

Through a series of charades and thickly accented, broken English, the Cigány had explained to Mick that this was the way it had always been for them. It was an expected part of their life. They had always served whatever Vampires had lived amidst them; offering up live blood in exchange for security, and protection from others who weren't so enamoured with the Gypsies existence.

Mick understood then. Brokering a deal, and explaining the concept of freshies, those who offered themselves to Vampires as willing blood donors. In return he would take care of any troubles they were having. Turning up when required, and flashing a show of fangs whenever local landowners decided to drive the Cigány off their claimed property with threats of fire, and violence. Or the local constabulary tried to shake down the Gypsy youth in the form of exorbitant fines for made up infractions.

The arrangement was entirely too clichéd for Mick's liking. Mick thinking at times that it felt as if he'd become trapped in a b grade horror novel. Nevertheless he was grateful for the steady supply of blood delivered to his doorstep. It meant he no longer needed to travel to the city of Bratislava to collect blood from the local morgues, and hospitals. Josef was in no condition to accompany Mick on these journeys, and leaving Josef home alone wasn't always a good idea. The last time he had done that, Mick had returned to find Josef pouring gasoline around the perimeter of the house, seemingly intent on burning their residence to the ground. With no apparent understanding as to why that might not be the absolute best thing for him to do.

Things didn't always go according to plan. Mick quickly realising that presenting a deranged Vampire with live nourishment, willing or otherwise, did not always result in a happy meal. After Josef had clawed a hapless girl's eyes out, and then proceeded to tear her throat open. His mistake promptly noted, guilt ridden apologies, and offerings of compensation made to the girl's family, Mick took to transfusing blood into bottles for Josef to drink rather than risk anymore unnecessary bloodshed.

Mick offered the young gypsy girl his congratulations, asking her to pass on his best wishes to her brother on the occasion of his eighteenth celebrations. Josef appeared alongside Mick then. His tailored suit, and hair tied back with a length of red velvet, an elegant contrast to Mick's own dressed down sweater and jeans appearance.

"You look nice." Mick cast an appreciate smile over Josef's attire, and then cheekily began singing a throwback to the previous century. "_Stand and deliver, your money or your life…_"

"…I'm cutting my hair tomorrow." Josef shot back defensively.

"Oh come on, Josef." Mick looked wounded at Josef's lack of humour, and quickly moved to try and remedy the situation, "don't be like that. I'm only joking with you. You know I like your hair the length it is now."

"Yes, I know, Mick." Josef drew the line of his mouth into a disarming smile, "and if you ever pull my hair into pigtails, and rev me like a motorcycle again, I may very well have to consider beheading you on the spot."

Before Mick had a chance to reply, the young gypsy girl stepped forward. Hand outstretched, waiting for an introduction.

"This is the other one?" She asked Mick. "He is your…"

"His prize breeding bull, yes," Josef raised an eyebrow and grinned at Mick, then stepped forward and accepted the girl's proffered hand, "Josef Kostan, nice to meet you."

"Nadya Dolinski," the girl tentatively shook Josef's hand, looking confused at his previous strange reply to her question regarding the exact status of his relationship with Mick, "my Grandmother's name is Simza."

"I know," Josef smiled politely then, turning on the Kostan charm for the girl's benefit, "Mick's told me. My compliments on some particularly fine home brew…"

Mick hadn't said anything to anyone, but he often thought the strange tasting bottles of distilled herbs, with enough alcohol content in them to get a small army rolling drunk, might have played a part in Josef's seemingly miraculous return to sanity. Either that or it was nothing more than a strange coincidence that the bottles had begun arriving on their doorstep three months before Josef regained his senses. Mick didn't believe in strange coincidences, not always. Still, he kept such esoteric flights of fancy to himself. Not wanting to face potential ridicule.

"…and yes, Mick is my husband." Josef added a quick explanation regarding his tongue in cheek use of the term 'prize breeding bull', and then exchanged a few words in Romany with the girl's grandmother, before finishing up the conversation.

"You'll have to teach me the language some time." Mick watched as the two Gypsy women said their goodbyes, and began to walk off; laughing to one another about the Vampires, and their curious sense of humour, still within earshot.

"I'm sure Auguste Vasilescu speaks Romany," Josef deadpanned, "perhaps I can teach you how to say, 'fuck off, you pompous arrogant jerk'."

At the sound of Auguste's name, Nadya and her Grandmother Simza stopped in their tracks. Turning back to face Mick and Josef with heads bowed in reverence.

"Wait," Mick called out to them, "you know this guy?"

Nadya hesitated for a moment, uncertain how she should reply, and then nodded her head, "Yes, he is the one who sent us to you. He is most revered because you are good to us, and we are happy."  
"Ok, thanks." Mick forced a smile, and waved another goodbye.

"Fuck," Josef growled under his breath, "why do I suddenly feel like a puppet on a string."

"Josef, please don't start anything tonight," Mick pleaded with his husband once again, "I'll be the one who's likely to come off second best."

"Mick," Josef rolled his eyes, and then leant in to place a quick, placating kiss on the side of Mick's face, "stop worrying. The epitome of grace and decorum, remember?"

"Yeah I remember," Mick laughed and returned Josef's eye rolling expression, "I'm not entirely sure I trust you, but I remember."

And then they were both heading to the car, and preparing for the journey head. With Josef mentally adding the subject of Gypsies to his already long checklist of 'things Auguste Vasilescu better have an answer for'.

-----------------------------------------------1

"I believe congratulations are in order?" Auguste Vasilescu sat across the table from Josef and Mick, a glass of Blood Wine in his hand tilted toward them in a general toast. "Your recent anniversary," he quickly clarified when he saw the puzzled looks on their faces, "How long as it been now, eighty years?"

"Yes, eighty years," Josef offered a gracious smile and took a sip of crimson fluid from his own glass, "and thank you for your most appreciated well wishes, on what was a very happy occasion for the both of us."

Mick shot Josef a sideways glance. True to his word, apart from a brief moment of unsteadiness when he first laid eyes on Auguste; Josef was certainly acting the very epitome of grace and decorum. Mick had to admit, he half suspected that if Josef laid on the syrupy charm any thicker, they might all soon find themselves drowning in molasses.

"Well," Auguste returned Josef's charm, and raised another toast, "such a momentous occasion deserves all the congratulations it receives. And I must say the Vampire nation was very relieved to hear of your recovery, after such a long and difficult tribulation."

"My thanks to you again." This time Josef's smile appeared more as a forced grimace. He was starting to find it difficult to keep up the charade.

"We certainly owe you some thanks of our own." Mick stepped in then, relieving Josef of the burden of conversation. "Those Gypsies you sent us certainly made life easier, although you could've pointed them our way a little sooner. Assuming you knew where we were living right from the start?"

"I wanted to make sure you were well settled, before I foisted a band of cutthroats and thieves upon you." Auguste offered an indifferent shrug, and ignored Mick's last question.

"Actually I've found them to be very trustworthy, and honest people." Mick's tone was matter of fact, his gaze locked steady with Auguste's.

"Then you don't know them as well as I do. You see, I used to be one of them, before I was turned." Auguste offered a polite nod, but refrained from revealing any further information regarding his past. "I must say though," he added then, arching an eyebrow in Mick's direction, "they are rather adept at brewing up batches of home remedy cure alls."

"Hah! I knew it." Mick snapped his fingers, and then halted, realising the ramifications of what Auguste had just told him. "Hold on a minute, if you knew the Gypsies had the power to cure Josef all along, why did it take almost ten years for it to be offered to us?"

Mick's tone and expression were an open challenge.

"Simple," Auguste gave another shrug of indifference, and relaxed back into his chair, "until the plans I had set in motion with Roisin were complete, I couldn't risk having Josef restored to sanity, and potentially upsetting what we were working to achieve."

"So you just let him suffer?" Mick's words came out as a low growl, half rising from his seat, his expression turning to pure hatred. As if he wanted to leap across the table at that very moment and kill Auguste with his bare hands.

Josef quickly grabbed Mick by the arm, and pulled him back down, shooting him a warning look at the same time.

For his own part Auguste smiled in tired amusement at Mick's antics.

"Mick, please understand," Auguste leant forward, elbows rested on the table in front of him, his fingers tented in a gesture of imploration then, "I am responsible for the entire Vampire Nation. My duty is to all Vampires, not to you alone, or to your husband. I did all I could to accommodate the both of you as best I could at the time."

"Oh yeah," Mick made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat, and rolled his eyes, "like what?"

"Well, like your current residence," Auguste smiled politely, and raised another eyebrow at Mick, "Perfect wasn't it? Right price, right location, just what you were looking for at the time?"

"You arranged that for us?" Mick looked taken aback. "What, all of it? The advert where I'd see it, the house itself…?"

Mick's voice trailed off, uncertain whether he should feel grateful, or highly disturbed. Oscillating between the two emotions, as Auguste nodded his affirmation.

"Tell me more about these plans of yours," Josef interjected then, "I assume they have something to do with finally putting The Legion back in their place? How exactly do you intend to go about it? It's not like they're just going to sit there smiling prettily while we slaughter them…"

"…Yeah, and what about Roisin? What does she have to do with any of this, why her?"

"Actually, Mick," Auguste paused, and pretended to inspect his nails. Flicking each one in turn, before continuing on, "it was something you said. I told you once I respected you for the wisdom you carry, far beyond your Vampire years. You were the one who reminded us to stop thinking as Elders, and start thinking more like the humans we were planning to go up against."

"So everything that's happened," Mick furrowed his brow, and made an encompassing hand gesture, "Roisin leaving, Josef's breakdown. You're saying all of that is my fault?"

Josef groaned audibly and buried his face in the palm of his hand.

"If you wish to see it that way, I suppose." Auguste absentmindedly stroked his chin, and once again looked wearily amused at Mick's display.

"Alright, enough." Josef bought a halt to proceedings, just as Mick was opening his mouth to respond. "I want to hear more about these plans of yours," Josef addressed Auguste point blank then, repeating his previous line of questioning, "and exactly how my niece fits in with them."

"It's really quite simple," Auguste reached for the decanter of Blood Wine in front of him, and poured each of them another glass, "Roisin was recruited by me, willingly I might add, to be The Order's eyes and ears within the Legion itself. For over a decade now, she has worked at gaining their trust, and their secrets. She has pinpointed both their strengths, and their weaknesses. All of which she has passed on to The Order, under my protection and command, in preparation for eventual all out war. Just as you wanted, Josef…"

"…I never asked for Roisin to become a pawn in my own battles." Josef interrupted; his tone razor sharp.

"But this isn't just your battle." Auguste replied matter of fact, "Not anymore. You were right when you once said The Legion cannot be allowed to continue unchecked. It's time the Vampire Nation took those," a momentary tittering of pre-amusement and Auguse continued, "Pissant fucks down a peg or two. As a matter of fact, I intend to wipe them off the face of the earth almost entirely. And thanks to the valiant efforts of your niece, that scenario is now within our reach."

"How…" Mick cut in

"…And why Roisin, why not some other mortal to do your dirty work?" Josef added with rising contempt.

_So much for molasses and the epitome of decorum._

Mick sensed the shift in his husband's demeanour, reaching under the table and squeezing Josef's hand in a quick gesture of reassurance. If Mick was completely honest, he was surprised Josef had managed to keep up appearances for as long as he had. He was the one who had lost his cool. Mick took a moment to silently berate himself for that fact.

"The how," Mick heard Auguste addressing him "isn't important at this time. I've arranged for a meeting to be held in a month's time. Matters will be discussed at length then. And yes you will both be expected to attend."

That last part he directed to Josef. Auguste Vasilescu's memory was long; he hadn't forgotten Josef's previous displays of loyalty to Mick.

"As for Roisin," Auguste spoke again, still addressing his words to Josef, "let's just say she was the most valuable bargaining chip we had. You have a reputation, Josef Kostan. The Legion considers you to be quite the prize…"

"…Lucky me." Josef quipped with the arch of an eyebrow, and a facetious look.

"Indeed," Auguste paused to raise a mock toast, "it must feel wonderful to be so popular…"

Again Mick reached for Josef's hand under the table, this time offering pre-emptive placation. Although judging by the way Mick's nails were digging into the flesh of his palm, Josef had to wonder if it was placation he was offering, or requesting for himself.

The exchange did not pass unnoticed. Again, Auguste chose to ignore it, and continued on. Addressing the both of them equally now.

"As I was saying, Josef is of some interest to the Legion. Outside those of us within The Order itself, he is arguably one of the most powerful Vampires still walking this earth. Or at least that is how the Legion views him. The removal of a human charge from Josef's _care_," Auguste phrased the word 'care' in inverted commas, giving indication of the Legion's own feelings towards the matter, "they considered something of a not so minor victory. At the very least it prevented the siring of another Vampire…"

"…I would never have sired Roisin," Josef responded with unbridled indignation. His expression set firm.

Auguste gave a deferential nod. The gesture of a hand indicating that certainly wasn't how the Legion viewed things. After all, Josef had already sired Roisin's Mother.

And then Auguste was getting to his feet, and bringing an end to matters for the evening. Gesturing towards a door on the far side of the room they were in, and instructing Mick and Josef they could wait for Roisin in there, after Josef had queried her whereabouts. Before taking his final leave, and with it, a myriad of questions still left unanswered.

"Well this was a complete waste of our time." His dissatisfaction evident, Josef slumped further into the cushions of the lounge he was seated on. Legs kicked out in front of him, crossed at the ankles, and arms folded tight across his chest.

Mick snorted a quick laugh at Josef's petulance, and then sat down beside him. One arm drawn around Josef's waist, the other rested lightly in Josef's lap.

"Yeah, he certainly seems to be playing his cards close to his chest." Mick started to say, only to find his words swallowed by Josef's own voice rising sharp over them.

"As for you," Josef turned to face Mick direct then, his face a mask of accusation. "What the hell was that back there, Mick?"

"I know. I'm sorry, I just…"

Mick's attempt at an apology was briskly pushed aside, as Josef continued to rail. Head cocked, and voice impertinent.

"Don't go throwing your weight around, you told me. Please don't start anything tonight, you said."

"Josef," Mick cut in, his own voice edged with guilt, "I said, I was sorry."

"You're damn lucky our heads are still attached to our necks." Josef stopped, and scrubbed frustrated hands over his face. He'd admonished Mick enough.

The next few moments were spent in awkward silence. Each one fidgeting in turn as they waited for the other to take up the burden of conversation.

"Hey," Josef spoke first. A sheepish elbow prodded into the side of Mick's ribcage, "I'm sorry, okay?"

"No, you were right," Mick let out a reluctant sigh of admittance, and shifted closer. Fingers entwined, and head resting on Josef's shoulder, "I shouldn't have lost my cool the way I did."

Josef was poised ready to tell Mick he couldn't really blame him. Auguste Vasilescu had a way of getting underneath a person's skin. Before he had a chance to speak, they were interrupted by the appearance of a familiar figure, standing in front of them.

"Should I come back?" Roisin raised an eyebrow at her Uncles, and affected a look of momentary innocence, "You seem preoccupied."

Judging by the startled looks they had given her, it was clear to Roisin that neither of them had picked up on her approach. She tried not to smile too obviously. There would be time enough for that.

"No," Josef was on his feet then, shifting towards his niece. His initial hesitation giving way to warmth, and open arms, "No, that won't be necessary. Your Uncle Mick and I were just having a moment together. You must have caught us unaware."

"Just having a moment together, really?" Roisin raised eyebrows and grinned, the melody of an unsuppressed laugh issuing forth, "I seem to recall something about being owed a few rounds of therapy for at least some of those _moments_ you used to have with Uncle Mick."

"Would you settle for a stiff drink instead?" Josef reached for the decanter of fine Malt Whiskey on the table in front of him, and poured a generous measure into one of the tumblers alongside. "You weren't old enough to drink Whiskey back then," he said, as he handed the glass to Roisin. His voice and expression couched in poignancy.

"No, I wasn't," Roisin accepted the drink from Josef's proffered hand, and took a few, quick mouthfuls of the smoky amber fluid. "I wasn't old enough for a lot of things that happened back then, Uncle Josef."

"Mick," Josef turned to Mick then. Mick hovered in the background. Teeth edging a pattern on the pad of his thumb as he chewed distractedly, and watched the scenes in front of him unfold with a wary eye. "Could you leave us for a moment please? I'd like to have a word with Roisin alone."

Despite Josef's best efforts, Mick still baulked at the initial request. Opening his mouth to deliver a ready formed protest, until he saw the imploring look Josef was giving him.

"I'll just be outside if you need me." Mick forced a smile, and offered his reassurances. A few perfunctory words of greeting exchanged with Roisin, before he reluctantly took leave.

"Uncle Mick's really not too fond of me anymore, is he?" Roisin seemed saddened by that thought.

"He'll come around," Josef retook his position on the couch, and gestured for Roisin to sit next to him, "He just needs some more time."

Neither of them spoke after that. Awkward seconds extending into drawn out, and hesitant minutes. In the silence of the room, Josef cocked his head and listened to the faint echo of a rhythm.

"Wait, you're Pregnant." All other plans of conversation dissolved then in the certainty of that statement.

"Yes." Roisin instinctively withdrew, an arm covering her stomach protectively as her Uncle shifted closer.

Josef pretended not to notice. "How far…"

"…twelve weeks."

Josef nodded a distracted understanding, Brow furrowed, and lips pursed, as his mind processed this latest of revelations.

"And who's the Father?"

_"Ask me anything, Uncle Josef," _Roisin thought, _"ask me how I kept from throwing up every time he came near me, ask me why I still feel the need to scrub myself raw in the shower at least six times a day. Just please don't ask me that."  
_  
"A man whose name I don't care to mention."

Josef understood then, or at least he thought he did. Roisin's brisk toned reply had made it clear she wouldn't abide any further probing on the matter. At least for the time being

Stopping to pour himself a generous measure of Whiskey, Josef drank down three quarters of the glass in a few quick gulps, and waited for the buzzing in his head to stop.

"Right, well that's settled then," his equilibrium settled, Josef drained the remaining dregs in his glass, and set the tumbler back down on the table in front of him, "you're moving back in with us."

"Uncle Mick won't…"

"…I'll take care of Uncle Mick." Josef trailed a dismissive hand through the air, his mind having already formulated a plan of action.

And then he was listening to the faint echo of a rhythm in the stillness of the room once more. A hand placed carefully over Roisin's stomach, sensing the background pulsations of life.


	3. Chapter 2

Mick groaned, a deep, guttural sound more akin to a growl, and clung to Josef's back. Fingers gripping, and nails digging into sweat dampened flesh.

Josef had kept him hovering on the edge for what seemed an eternity. Hours passed. Time seemed to merge. Mick bucked his hips, desperate for more stimulation. Cock lying rigid, and heavy along his abdomen. His stomach slicked with pre come.

"Josef, please…"

The rest of Mick's plea was swallowed by Josef's mouth crushing against Mick's own. Josef's slow, torturous build up of arousal continuing relentless. Rapid fire thrusts alternated with more languorous penetrations. Josef bought Mick to the very brink of anticipation, and then took him back down. Over, and over again.

"Josef, for God sake…" Mick's voice took on a desperate edge as he wrenched away from Josef's kiss, and repeated his plea.

For the briefest of moments, Josef considered putting Mick out of his misery. Pleasurable as it was. Instead he stilled for a moment, pausing to brush strands of hair, wet with perspiration, from Mick's brow. It was an age ago it seemed, that they had done anything like this; drawn things out, spent hours mapping each others skin with lips, and fingers, extended their pleasure.

Granted there was an ulterior motive behind the added attention, but Josef was enjoying the night's events far too much to bring proceedings to a close just yet.

And then Mick mewled; an inhuman sound that sent a shiver of delight coursing down Josef's spine, and threatened to break through Josef's own carefully guarded control.

Too late. Josef hurriedly withdrew from Mick's space, eliciting another chorus of mewling snarls, and deep seated groans of frustration in the process.

"Turn over, and get on your hands and knees," His own need weighing in on him, Josef issued Mick a heated instruction, and waited for Mick to scramble into position.

"Oh Jesus, fuck," Mick gasped, and bit down on his lower lip, fangs drawing blood as Josef took him from behind. "Don't stop, don't you dare stop."

"Trust me, lover," Josef grinned at the pleading desperation in Mick's voice, and stepped up the pace, "there's no chance of that, not this time."

Mick snaked a hand behind Josef's head, and twisted his face to meet his. Mouths pressed together in an awkward clash of lips, and fangs.

Josef broke the kiss moments later. Letting his eyes fall shut and concentrating on Mick's increasingly incoherent vocalisations. Listening as Mick whimpered and growled with abandon. Josef's hand gripped the top of Mick's shoulder, seeking leverage, the other drawn under Mick's waist. Fingers closed around Mick's cock, stroking Mick's length in sync with the increasingly frantic pace of their coupling.

And then Mick was near howling with the force of the orgasm that swept through him. Fangs bared in a grimace of pleasure. A hand reaching for Josef's arm, those same fangs buried deep into the flesh of Josef's wrist.

Josef could see Mick struggling to fill his lungs with air. Mick's breathing falling ragged around his bite, coming in staccato pants, and gasps. And Josef would have reminded Mick, in his own cheekily condescending way that Vampires didn't need to breathe; if it weren't for the fact of his own orgasm crashing in on top of him.

"Wow," was all Mick could think of to say in the aftermath, his body still humming with residual pleasure.

"Worth the wait then was it?" Josef chuckled, and ran a finger over the two small, rapidly healing puncture wounds on the top of Mick's shoulder created by his own fangs.

"Mm," Mick murmured a non committal reply, and tucked his fingers under his chin. Head turned to one side as he lay on his stomach and reveled in the feeling of Josef's body pressed close against his own. Josef alongside him, a leg draped across Mick's thighs.

"Have I ever told you how utterly fascinating your body is to me?" Josef caressed a hand over Mick's back, pads of fingers tracing planes and angles of musculature, "you remind me of a sculpture."

"Really?" Mick smiled like a man who had heard those same words many times before.

"Yes, really." Josef snorted a laugh at Mick's nonchalant response, and then casually added, "by the way, I told Roisin she could move back in with us. You don't mind do you, Mick?"

It was a rhetorical question. The announcement made as if he were remarking on item of only passing interest.

"Mm," another non committal murmur, and then Mick suddenly turned over, and sat bolt upright. Josef's words having registered. "Wait, what did you just say?"

Josef took one look at Mick's thundercloud expression, and berated himself for his miscalculation. He had hoped a nice, long fuck session would have thrown Mick off guard, allowed him to casually drop the news without repercussion. He was wrong.

"…So when exactly were you planning to discuss this with me, Josef?" Mick was on his feet then, pulling on jeans and shirt from the pile of crumpled clothing at the end of the bed, "Or was that it? You just make an announcement, and expect me to go along with it…"

"…Mick -"

Mick turned, and shot Josef a disdainful look, "And I suppose that display of yours just now was meant to soften me up…"

"…Like you've never done the same thing to me before, Mick." Josef raised his eyes skyward for a moment, and managed to look perfectly indignant. "Where are you going?"

"Outside, for a walk, the air in here seems to be getting to me."

Josef mimicked Mick's words with exaggerated, mock annoyance, as Mick turned heel and strode from the room. A display of sheer immaturity, and Josef knew it. And then he was off the bed, and hurriedly redressing, his attitude shifting contrite.  
_  
"Yes, I know. I fucked up, forgive me?"_

Josef hesitated for a moment, and then took off after his husband.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Aren't you cold?"

Mick looked up to see Nadya Domilenski staring at his barefoot and open shirted appearance. A look of puzzlement fallen over her features as flakes of snow fell around them.

"No," Mick offered the young gypsy girl a polite smile and a shake of his head, "I sleep in an industrial freezer. This is comfortable for me."

"In a freezer?" Nadya tilted her head, and pursed her lips, "with the other one? He sleeps in there with you also?"

"Josef?" Mick smiled once more at Nadya's apparent naivety, "Yeah he sleeps in the Freezer with me."

"Must be a big freezer…"

"…Custom built.-"

"- So how do you have sex? A giant freezer it would be very uncomfortable."

_Ok so maybe the girl wasn't that naïve after all. _

"Ah, we have a bed," Mick fidgeted with the cuffs of his shirt for a moment, and averted his eyes, "for…that."

"So Vampires can have sex?" Nadya's curiousity over rid Mick's obvious hesitancy, "I did not think that was possible? You have no circulation so how…"

"…It just works, ok?" Mick hurriedly interrupted, pre-empting Nadya's question. His reluctance to discuss such matters evident, "Can we talk about something else, please. It's late, what are you doing out?"

"Collecting plants," Nadya waved a dismissive hand, "my Grandma Simza, she is superstitious. I tell her, 'there is a perfectly good market in the city we can buy whatever we need'. But no, I still have to pick plants at night."

"So what's your Grandmother brewing up this time," Mick raised curious eyebrows, "another special recipe?"

"My brother he has a cold. She is making him a poultice." Nadya shrugged, and then sat by Mick. Understanding what he had meant by the words, 'special recipe. "Was it very hard, when he was unwell?"

"Yeah, it was." Mick chewed on his bottom lip, and looked pensive. And then he was drawing breath to speak, and blurting out a litany of fears, and doubt. Words rushed forth in a rapid fire relief of vowels and consonants.

"I think maybe," Nadya placed a hand on Mick's arm, and directed Mick's gaze towards Josef standing in front of then, "you should be speaking those words to him."

"He already heard." Josef smiled. His gaze locked on Mick.

At first, Mick pretended not to notice. Turning to Nadya and stammering out a sheepish apology. He hadn't meant to burden her with his troubles. He hadn't thought. He was embarrassed.

Nadya brushed Mick aside with all the jaded attitude of a teenager trying to pretend she had heard it all before. Before Mick had a chance to respond, she had said her goodbyes, and headed back into the shadows.

Mick at least acknowledged Josef's presence then, wadding up a ball of snow and half heartedly striking Josef in the chest with it.

"Right," Josef pretended to look nonplussed, and brushed the powder flake fragments of ice from his clothes. "Do you feel better after that?"

Josef took a seat on the low garden wall, next to Mick. His arms wrapped around Mick's waist. Head rested against Mick's back. For a few moments neither one of them spoke. And then Josef broke the silence.

"I'm sorry."

"It doesn't matter." Mick forced a smile, and waved an unconvincing hand.

"Of course not, Mick," Josef snorted a wry laugh, "which is exactly why you're sitting out here. In the snow, in the middle of the night, brooding."

"I like snow." Mick's tone was just shy of petulant.

"Remind me to buy you a snow machine for your birthday." Josef quick witted, and pressed on, "Why didn't you talk to me, Mick? You talk to a practical stranger, but you couldn't come to me?"

Josef's fallen expression matched the hurt tone in his voice.

"How, Josef?" Mick turned to face Josef then. "Tell me how. Everything I can't forget, you'll never remember."

"Then we'll create new memories." Josef shifted into Mick's space. The back of a hand brushed along the line of Mick's jaw.

"More change." Mick furrowed his brow, and huffed with frustration. "As soon as we get settled anywhere, something always seems to come along to shake things up. Beth, the Legion, Roisin. I'm sick of everything changing all the time."

"We're immortal;" Josef rested his forehead against Mick's, "change is a part of living forever. Everything around us will change eventually. You either accept it, or you go insane."

Josef shook his head and drew the line of his mouth into a wry smile. The irony of his words realised.

"Yeah, like you've done so well with that yourself." Mick replied with a sniff of laughter.

"Ouch." Josef reared back, pretending to look mortally wounded, and then shifted the conversation to matters at hand. "I'll tell Roisin I've changed my mind. We don't have enough room after all. The house is too small for three people."

"She's your blood relative." Mick sighed wearily, and tried to affect an air of resignation.

"And you're my husband." Josef shrugged matter of fact. As if the matter was settled. "See that up there," Josef pointed to the waxing moon, hanging in the sky above them then, "I'm still working on getting that for you, you know. Give me another eighty years. I should have something figured out."

"You are crazy. You know that, don't you?" Mick's faux exasperation was belied by the tender smile that crept across his features.

"And whose fault is that?" Josef quipped with sarcastic breeze, and then stood up. His hand extended. "Will you come back inside now, please?"

"Yeah, ok." Mick rolled his eyes with put on reluctance. And then smiled, and accepted Josef's proffered hand in his.

Three nights later the decision on Roisin's living arrangements was taken out of Josef's hands. Auguste Vasilescu himself, showing up unannounced. Instructions in hand, Roisin was to return to live with them.

Josef had trouble following the conversation from that point on, his mind switching to concerns about Mick. He heard something about an overall plan, and the Legion being made to believe Roisin was willing to infiltrate her own family. Beyond that, Auguste might well have been speaking an unknown language.

"Just let me know when this rollercoaster reaches the bottom of the hill, ok?" Was all Mick could manage in tired response, when Josef informed him of this latest development.

Before wandering outside for some much needed snowball target practice. Wadded lumps of ice hammered against the stone exterior of the house.

-----------------------------------------------------

"Where's Uncle Mick?"

"Concentrate, Roisin, please." Auguste tapped the silver tipped point of his cane on the floor in front of him, and then gestured for Josef to continue.

"He's just gone to the city to fetch supplies." Josef raised the sword in his hand, and then motioned for Roisin to do the same, "En Guard."

Roisin's things had been moved in earlier that day. More than a decade's worth of life summed up in a few sparse furnishings, and a rucksack filled with clothes. "I've learnt to travel light," Roisin had shrugged, when Josef had expressed his surprise.

Now with Auguste's repeated insistence that Roisin was not to lapse in her training, they faced off against one another, swords at the ready.

Josef had to admit she was good, surprisingly good as a matter of fact. Roisin was managing to hold her own against a swordsman with more than four centuries of experience. Still he held back, reluctant to release his full capabilities. Despite the impressiveness of her skills, Roisin was still mortal.

'Uncle Josef," Roisin halted, the sword in her hand pointed towards the ground. A frustrated expression fallen over her features, "stop going easy on me. I'm not a child. I need to train as close to real world fighting conditions as possible."

"As you wish." Josef arched an eyebrow, and gave a cursory bow towards his niece, before releasing a rapid fire volley of cuts.

Roisin easily deflected the first few blows, changing through, and executing a number of deflective parrying actions, before striking back with a series of mixed diagonal, and cross cuts of her own. And then Josef saw his opening. Just as Roisin dropped her arm, intent on delivering a vertical uppercut of her blade, he lunged forward. The point of his own blade neatly sliced the thin material of Roisin's shirt, and continued through to her flesh.

"Shit, are you…" before Josef had a chance to complete his sentence, Auguste was at Roisin's side. Her wound hurriedly checked, words of reassurance being spoken.

"I've had worse," Roisin turned to her Uncle, and shrugged. Before unbuttoning her shirt just enough for Josef to see the criss cross of scars that marred her chest, "that was just a scratch."

Josef stood dumfounded, and seething with rage as he watched Auguste instruct Roisin to go and tend to her injury.

"She's not a child anymore, Josef," Auguste raised a silencing finger, pre-empting Josef's planned tirade, "and there is nothing she does, that she does not wish to do. I have never forced Roisin to do anything. I don't think I could even if I wanted to. She is one of the most headstrong mortals I have ever had the good fortune to meet in my years."

There was a clear note of respect, and admiration in Auguste's voice.

"You really care for her, don't you?" Josef's anger dissipated for the moment, replaced by curiosity.  
"Of course." Josef bristled at the tone of Auguste's response. Replete as it was with snapped indignation. And then Auguste lowered his voice to a more amicable level, "But not in the way you might think. I do care for Roisin, but I am merely her mentor, and protector. Nothing more and nothing less."

"If you care for Roisin, then why…?"

"…Why did I force her away from her family?" Again Auguste pre-empted Josef's words.

Josef gave a curt nod, and waited for Auguste to continue. Arms folded across his chest, and huffed expression, making his annoyance at being interrupted more than apparent.

"You haven't been listening to me, Josef," Auguste shot Josef a patronising smile, and ignored Josef's rising discord, "I have never forced Roisin to do anything she has not wanted to do. I merely offered a solution to the issues she was experiencing at that time. She was well within her rights to refuse me, and I would have taken my leave with good grace. I made that perfectly clear to her, right from the start. I saw something in your niece," Auguste turned to face Josef direct then, "right from the start. Something infinitely bright that deserved to be nurtured. And you might have seen it too. If you hadn't been so pre-occupied with playing the role of machismo alpha Vamp, whose kingdom was overthrown, and authority usurped."

"You …"

Suddenly Josef found himself sprawled out on the floor, knocked off his feet by a blow that had come out of nowhere.

"What's wrong, Uncle Josef?" Roisin stood over her Uncle, grinning, "Did I catch you off guard again?"

"Lucky break." Josef stood up, ignoring Roisin's outstretched hand as he adjusted the sleeves of his shirt, and tried to hide the surprised look on his face.

"Oh really?" Roisin arched a pointed eyebrow, and then raised both hands and gestured ante up, "Close your eyes, and try to scent me."

Josef raised a bemused eyebrow of his own, but did as he was instructed. Eyes shut he scented the air around him. Ears peeled for the sound of Roisin's heartbeat, or footsteps.

Just as quickly as he had closed them, Josef's eyes flew upon. This time there was no hiding the shocked expression on his face. Roisin had been in front of him, and then behind, and then at his left hand side. Each new position indicated by the tap of a finger on Josef's shoulder. And Josef hadn't been able to scent, or hear his niece at all. It was as if she were a ghost, or…

"Jesus." Josef clapped his hand over his mouth.

"Hallelujah." Roisin threw her hands in the air in a gesture of mock praise. A wide grin plastered across her features.

"It can't be," Josef struggled to comprehend Roisin's revelation, "You're a…"

"…A Legion assassin? Yes," Roisin finished Josef's sentence with a brief nod, "trained as one at least."

Auguste cleared his throat then. His attention directed towards Roisin. A finger tapped pointedly against the face of a wrist watch.

"I'm sorry, Uncle Josef," Roisin turned to her Uncle. Her expression steeped in contrition, "I'll be away for a few days, I have some…" She hesitated for a moment, trying to find the right words, "I have some business I need to attend to."

"Business?" Josef cocked his head, "As in Legion related business I take it."

"Yes." Roisin nodded. Her expression still couched in a mixture of apology and reluctance.

"Will you be seeing the father of your child?" The quaver in his voice belied Josef's attempt at keeping the tone of the question light.

Roisin nodded again, and averted her eyes. Her teeth chewing distractedly over her bottom lip. And then the floodgates were opening, and a torrent of words rushed forth. "I'm sorry, Uncle Josef, I never wanted…I don't have a choice, this is part of what I do. This is what I was trained for. I needed to get close to them. They had to trust me, completely. I never wanted to…not with him. Not with…"

Josef held up a silencing hand. "Don't say his name, Roisin. If I don't hear you say his name then I can go on pretending none of this is happening, and my niece isn't really sleeping with the enemy. Anything else cuts too deep."

"An illusion of blissful ignorance, hey Uncle Josef." Roisin forced a smile, and tried to convey her understanding.

"Something like that." Josef reached out a hand to brush Roisin's length of hair back over her shoulders.

And then she was gone. Headed back into a world Josef was doing his level best to pretend didn't exist.

-----------------------------------------------------

**NC17: The following page will contain descriptions of a sex act occuring between Josef and Mick. Please do not read if that is likely to offend.**

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Mick lay alongside Josef. Josef facing away from him, his back spooned against Mick's chest.

"Hmm, what?" Josef muttered a distracted reply. He was finding it difficult to concentrate on anything but the sensation of Mick's hand roaming across his flesh.

"About Roisin."

"What about…?" Josef groaned with approval as Mick's fingers encircled his cock. A slow, steady rhythm stroked along his length.

"…She's pregnant." Mick's hand movements quickened, becoming firmer, more assured.

"Oh, that…I don't know, I should have…" Josef struggled to formulate a response. Two fingers of Mick's other hand were pressing against his anus, penetrating him. Another groan of approval elicited as Mick's fingers found their target. "Mick, can we talk about this later, please."

The frustration in Josef's voice was evident.

"I thought you might be a little more forthcoming in this condition." Mick's subsequent laughter held a distinctly wry note.

"What? I'm so overwhelmed with pleasure I start randomly shouting confession?" Josef rolled his eyes, and snorted a laugh of his own, "You idiot."

Any further words were silenced then. Josef's lips pressed against Mick's own. A hand snaked behind Mick's head, drawing him in for an awkward kiss.

Mick's hand continued to work its way along the length of Josef's cock. Fingers penetrating Josef's space pressed firmer. Josef writhing and purring beneath his attentions, Mick felt his own arousal build.

Josef broke away from the kiss a few moments later, pleading with Mick to fuck him. Words panted hot against Mick's throat.

"You sure you don't want to…?" Mick finished his sentence with a series of kisses trailed along the side of Josef's neck.

"No," Josef shook his head, determined, "I'm in the mood to be fucked."

Hands scrambled along the top of the bedside cabinet. A hurried application of lube, and Mick's fingers were being replaced by his cock. Josef's leg hooked over Mick's thigh, giving Mick access.

Initial thrusts were kept short, building slowly. And then Mick changed the angle of penetration, and began driving harder. His cock pressing repeatedly against Josef's prostate, sparks of electricity shooting along Josef's spine.

"Oh fuck, yes." Josef growled, and arched into the sensation. Mick's wrist held against Josef's mouth in anticipation, Josef's own hand now working his length. A rhythm stroked in time to the pace of Mick's thrusts, growing increasingly frenetic.

Josef felt Mick tense. Mick thrust forward one final time, and then stilled, muscles trembling. And then Mick was snarling his release. A succession of warm, wet pulsations pumped into Josef's passage. Mick's fangs buried deep into the top of Josef's shoulder.

And Josef was falling over the edge with him. Unnatural vocalisations of pleasure emanating from parted lips. Cock spasming, fingers flooded with semen. Josef's own fangs sliced into the flesh of Mick's wrist.

"Mm, that was good." Josef stretched with repletion, and then reached for the box of tissues next to the bed. Mick was still inside him, his arm draped across Josef's chest. Chin rested against Josef's shoulder.

"Are we going to discuss the issue with Roisin now, or not?" Mick shifted the conversation back to previous matters then.

"What is there to discuss exactly," Josef felt Mick withdraw, and rolled over to face him. His brow scrunched in question, "She's pregnant, and it's not like we exactly have a choice whether she's staying with us or not. And besides what would you have me do otherwise, Mick? Throw her out on the streets?"

Josef's tone was a hairs breadth from righteous indignation.

Mick ignored Josef's defensive outburst, and pressed on. "No, of course not. You just should've told me straight out what was going on. I might have felt a bit different with Roisin staying here if I'd known."

More acts of contrition were ushered, Josef's expression falling between apology and frustration. He didn't know why he hadn't told Mick about Roisin's condition. He wanted to say it had slipped his mind. Something told him that wasn't quite true.

"You sure you're ok?" Josef heard Mick asking him then, fingers brushing damp strands of hair from Josef's forehead. Mick's own expression steeped in concern.

"Hmm, sorry I was…I'm fine." Josef murmured. His reply sounding awkward; caught up in his own distraction. Taking a moment to regain his grounding, Josef repeated his reassurance. More certain this time, "Mick, I'm ok, really. Quit worrying."

Mick decided not to push the issue, noting Josef's reluctance. Instead he smiled, and nodded his acceptance. His arms drawn around Josef's neck, lips pressed against Josef's own. Mick hoped the kiss would turn into something more. He was in the mood to be fucked now.

"So who's the father?" It was a seemingly innocuous question, designed to distract. Mick feeling the need to slow his growing arousal as Josef's body shifted against his.

The expression on Josef's face told Mick all he needed to know. His ardour cooled rapidly. Mick felt as if someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over him then.

Josef made a hurried attempt at cover up. Hastily mumbling something about not being sure, Roisin hadn't told him for certain.

Mick would have none of it.

"Him, are you fucking kidding me? And you're letting her stay with us?"

"Mick, it's not like we have a choice." Josef tried to appeal to reason. As Mick continued to rant and rail.

"Bullshit, Josef. This is our house. Are you trying to tell me we don't have any say in what happens in our own home…?"

"No, look this is…"

"…I don't want to hear it," Mick stabbed a pointed finger, "I want her out of here. Jesus Christ, Josef, she's been sleeping with the man who practically ruined our live."

"Mick, I said I wasn't sure. Roisin hasn't actually spoken to me about it." Josef tried to interject.

Still Mick refused to listen. "How do we know we can even trust her? How do we know she won't turn on us given the first opportunity…?"

"We don't…"

"This is crap," Mick cut in. More exclamations of blasphemy muttered under his breath. "And you've known this all along, and didn't think to tell me? I can't believe you agreed to let her stay here. What the hell's the matter with you?"

Josef didn't answer.

Mick was off the bed then, hurriedly pulling on clothes. Josef felt a distinct sense of déjà vu. Only a few days ago he had lain in almost the same position, and watched as Mick vented his emotions, eventually storming from the room in a flurry of upset.

This time, Josef let Mick go. Figuring Mick just needed some time alone. At any moment Josef expected to hear the dull thud of packed snow hitting against the side of the house.

Josef heard the sound of Mick's footsteps, stomping heavy across the slated floor, the front door being opened. And then…

Crap

….the noise of a car engine being gunned. Tires screeching, spraying dust and gravel as Mick peeled off into the night.

Another world away a mortal girl climbed into bed, silently praying the man lying next to her wouldn't awake. Too late, the figure was already stirring. Hands reaching for her, a voice in the dark, "Are you trying to sneak into bed without saying hello?"

And Roisin did what she had done every other night. She forced a smile, and then let her eyes fall shut. Her mind drifing towards thoughts of death and torture, as Terrence shifted over her.


	4. Chapter 3

The sound of the phone, wrenched Josef from his thoughts. He had been quietly brooding over whether or not to go after Mick. Was it better to wait for Mick to calm down? And then of course there was the issue of exactly how he was supposed to go after Mick in the first place. Mick was driving the only car they had, Josef's Ferrari having been sold some years prior.

"Yes, he's here with me now." Auguste Vasilescu's voice spoke through the receiver with polite amusement.

In the background Josef could hear Mick ranting and railing.

"Send a driver for me," Josef's own voice held a note of urgency, "I'll be there straight away. Please let me deal with Mick."

"Transport has already been arranged," again the same politely amused voice spoke through the phone, "And there's no need to concern yourself. To tell you the truth your husband is being rather entertaining. If ever I feel the need to employ a court jester, he'll be my first port of call."

On the other end of the line, Josef could hear Auguste chortling. His laughter provoking an outburst of shouted indignation from Mick.

"Oh, so you think this is funny do you? Well let me tell you something…"

"Shit." Josef cursed under his breath, and rushed through more hurried reassurances to Auguste, before hanging up the phone to sit wait.

Forty five restless, nerve inducing minutes later Josef was responding to a sharp knock at the door, and being whisked off into the night, a chauffeured limousine his mode of transport.

If Josef hadn't been so focused on his own concerns, he might have thought to complain about the fact the vehicle he was traveling in wasn't stretch. As it was, the majority of the ride was spent in contemplative silence. Josef stared out the passenger window, fingers drumming restless against the leather upholstery of the door. And then they were pulling into the drive way of the large, stone fronted residence Auguste had recently rented in the nearby city of Samorin, and Josef was being lead through a winding series of corridors. Headed towards the room where his husband currently raged against the perceived injustices of their world.

"Screw the Vampire Nation," Josef could hear Mick yelling at the top of his voice, "This is about me and Josef…"

"…Mick," the sound of Josef's voice cut through Mick's tirade. "Mick, what are you doing?" Josef tried to affect an open manner as he approached. A hand reaching out to touch Mick's face, fingers brushing the line of Mick's jaw. His voice brimming with what he hoped was a sympathetic tone. "I know how difficult things have been for you lately, for both of us, but this is not…"

"…Don't patronise me, Josef," Mick swatted Josef's hand away with a furious glare. A huffed note of indignation in his voice, "What am I, ten? I thought we were past all that crap. Don't speak to me like I'm a child."

"Well stop acting like one, and I won't." Josef switched tactics then. Leaning in close, his face inches from Mick's. Words growled low, attempting to assert authority "Are you trying to get us both killed?"

As if responding to Josef's words, Auguste rose from his seat. Making as if he were about to approach. Threat poised across his face.

Taking Mick firmly by the arm, Josef threw Auguste what he hoped would be taken as a silent look of thanks, and began to manoeuvre Mick towards the door. Throwing in a snapped tone instruction of, "Move it" for effect.

An initial moment of resistance, and then Mick thought the better of it. Sullen and unrepentant, he allowed himself to be lead away.

"Keys," Josef commanded when they were outside, letting go of Mick, and gesturing impatiently, "I'm driving."

Josef watched then as Mick reached into the pocket of his jeans, and drew out a set of car keys. Tossing them unceremoniously through the air, so that they landed just short in the gravel at Josef's feet.

"Asshole." Teeth clenched, Josef snarled under his breath.

Mick gave an apathetic shrug. Posture and expression framed with indifference, as he leant against the passenger side door of the car.

"Just get in the bloody car, Mick." Josef rolled his eyes, and spat in disgust. A glare of disapproval aimed in Mick's general direction.

For at least the first half hour of the journey home, Mick remained stone-faced and silent. Staring moodily out the window, caught up in his own private reverie.

And then Mick decided to drown out some of his thoughts. Tuning the radio into some non-descript Rock station, and cranking the volume as high as it would go.

Josef reached over and turned the stereo off, "Not while I'm driving, Mick."

"Never bothered you before," again that same indifferent shrug. And then Mick reached across and switched the radio back on. Turning the sound back up to its previous, ear splitting level.

"Well it's bothering me now." His patience rapidly diminishing, Josef turned the radio back off again.

In a show of stubborn defiance, Mick switched it back on. Until in the end, Josef tore the entire stereo from its bracket, and hurled it out his open driver's side window. Plastic and metal bounced off bitumen at high speed, shattering the unit into a thousand useless components.

"Nice one, Josef." Mick's laugh was notably dry. His lips compressed into the parody of a smile, "Real mature of you."

Josef had reached the end of his tether by then. Wrenching the steering wheel to the right, and slamming on the brakes, he pulled up hard along the shoulder of the road. A shower of dirt, and gravel spun violently in his wake.

Hands white knuckling the steering wheel in front of him, Josef turned to Mick and growled a low command. "Get out."

Mick averted his eyes, and made no attempt to move.

Josef leant across and unclipped Mick's seatbelt, "I said, get out."

Still Mick refused to budge.

And then Josef was leaning across once more, opening Mick's passenger door this time. One swift kick and Mick found himself tumbling from the car. Sprawled out, face first in the dirt below, spitting out mouthfuls of gravel.

Josef pulled the door shut behind him, and then hit the central locking. His forehead rested on the steering wheel, Josef contemplated the temptation to drive off. Leave Mick to walk home, alone in his brooding, and silence.

He couldn't do it. As much of a prick as Mick was being, Josef had still been able to read the emotion, and fear in Mick's eyes.

"You are way out of line." Josef was out of the car then, hauling Mick to his feet.

"What did you say?" Mick shot Josef a scrunched brow look of disbelief.

"You heard me." Josef paused, and then shifted his attitude back to a softer, more open approach. Hands gripping Mick's biceps, focusing Mick's attention toward his, "Mick, look at me. I'm not even going to pretend to know what you went through with me for all those years…"

"…No, you don't know," Mick shook Josef off, "You don't have a clue what it was like for me back then. How could you? You barely registered your own existence. In more than a hundred and fifty years, I don't think I've ever felt so alone. I went through hell with you, for nearly ten years, Josef, and now you expect me to just keep my mouth shut, and be happy about what's going on?"

"Of course not." Josef followed after Mick, as Mick turned and began to walk away, "Do you think this is any easier for me? I'm the one he tortured, Mick. How do you think I feel knowing every time Roisin comes home, his scent is going to be all over her? I'm not asking you to be happy about any of this; I'm asking you to help me get through it. Please."

Mick stopped in his tracks, several metres away from the car. Josef had asked for help, not just asked, practically begged. Josef hardly ever asked for help, not from Mick, not from anyone. If he was asking for help now, then that meant…

Suddenly Mick felt very small, and very, very ashamed.

"Shit, I'm sorry." Mick scrubbed a hand over his face, and then turned to face Josef. The distance covered between them, Mick drew arms around Josef's waist and pulled him into an embrace. "I'm sorry, ok, I'm sorry, I didn't know…"

"Mick," Josef ducked, and weaved out the way of an onslaught of kisses, "Ok, I get it, you're sorry. Do you mind not drenching me in saliva?"

"Alright, I'm sorry," Mick backed off then, holding Josef at arm's length, "What do you want me to do, just name it."

"Well for a start you can get back in the car," Josef cock his head, and flashed Mick a pointed smile. "And stop apologising."

"Ok, sorry, no more apologising. Got it." Mick's laugh was tinged with embarrassment. And then he was rushing off ahead, putting on his best graces as he held the driver's side door of the car open, ready for Josef to climb in.

"Thank you." Josef hesitated, brow scrunched, and lips pursed in an expression of admonishment, "Mick, you don't need to over do it, alright? Just try and be a bit more understanding, and stop acting like a complete asshole."

"Yeah, ok. I can do that, not a problem, stop acting like a complete asshole, and be more understanding, gotcha…"

"Mick!"

"What?" Mick paused with hand rested on the passenger side door. Another readied apology already formed on his lips.

"You're rambling." Josef shot Mick another pointed smile, and then instructed Mick one more time to, "Get in the car."

Several minutes into the journey Mick reached for Josef's hand.

"Josef?"

"What, Mick?" Josef's fingers entwined with Mick's, his gaze focused on the road ahead.

"I really am sorry, you know."

"I know." Josef smiled, and nodded. A thumb stroked across the back of Mick's hand.

They both fell into a protracted silence. Hands still clasped, drifting into their own thoughts. When Mick spoke again his voice was low, and quiet. His words carefully considered.

"I think Roisin and I need to talk. I mean really talk, properly."

"If you think it will help?" Josef shrugged, and replied matter of fact. His concentration still focused on the business of driving. Thoughts of Roisin pushed aside.

"Yeah," Mick nodded his affirmation, "Yeah, I do."

"Do you remember that house we were living in, in Poland?" Josef lay behind Mick, still joined, and draped an arm across Mick's body. Fingers caressing a path over Mick's chest, lips pressed against the top of Mick's shoulder. Their bodies diffused with a fine layer of perspiration, residual pleasure still humming through both of them.

"The one with the balcony?"

"Yeah, that's the one." Josef shifted his hand to brush sweat dampened strands of hair from Mick's forehead.

"I remember we got busted fucking on that balcony one night," Mick laughed, "And they had the nerve to hold up score cards."

"I can't believe they gave us a 7.5 average," Josef huffed, and rolled his eyes. Affecting a note of perfect indignation, "that was at least a 9.2 performance." Josef's tone shifted serious then, "When we first got together, did you ever imagine what things would be like? Where we were headed, whether or not it would last?"

"Not really," Mick pressed his fist against his mouth, and stifled a yawn, settling further back into Josef's embrace. "I think I was too busy just trying to come to terms with the fact we were even together. How come?"

"No reason," Josef caressed a finger along the line of Mick's jaw, "Just thinking out loud."

Mick snorted another laugh, and then drew the line of his mouth into a disbelieving smile. Lips pressed together in a patronising form, eyebrows raised in an 'I don't believe you for a moment' expression.

And then Mick was murmuring a reply of 'ditto' to Josef's 'I love you', and letting his eyes fall shut. Josef watching as Mick's breathing became more even, and then slowed. Mick drifting off to sleep, leaving Josef to lie beside him, awake, words on repeat running through his mind.

"_You don't know. You don't have a clue what it was like for me back then._"

Josef made his decision then. Maybe it was time he found out.

* * *

A week later Josef settled into a chair in the room they had converted into a study, a pile of manila folders, and computer discs spread out in front of him. It was a strange assortment of old world, and new. Paper and laser all mixed together. A sign of a group trying to drag itself into the modern world, whilst still remaining entrenched in the ways of old.

Roisin hadn't questioned her Uncle when he had come to her, two days prior, and asked to see the data that had been collected on him. Back when he was, 'not in his right frame of mind', as those lost years had come to be euphemistically termed. Somehow she had expected he would want to know the truth, eventually. So it seemed had Auguste. Giving Roisin unlimited access to the piles of information kept in storage, with only a perfunctory warning of, "I hope your Uncle is prepared for this."

Josef slipped one of the discs into a portable computer, and then opened up the first folder, scanning through words, and pictures. Every so often he paused to press keys, and turn pages. Eyes darting back and forth, rapidly absorbing the information presented to him.

Five hours later Josef was shakily pouring himself a generous measure of Scotch. Fingers pressed against his temples, as he struggled to come to terms with what he had just seen, and read.

Back in the 18th century, during a brief period spent living in London he had been a regular visitor to Bethlehem Hospital. A few pennies could buy you an afternoon's entertainment. Watching the unfortunate souls unlucky enough to end up in a place they called Bedlam, as they inadvertently performed for the jeering masses. The fact that one day Josef would be seeing images of himself behaving in much the same way as those wretches he had once taunted and laughed at, was an irony not entirely lost on him.

Josef drained the rest of his drink, took a few more moments to steady his nerves, and then went off in search of Mick. A manila folder tucked under his arm.

"Hey," Mick looked up from the kitchen table, a glass of blood nursed in his hand. "You've finished whatever it was you were doing then I take it?"

Mick forced a smile at the image of Josef hovering in the doorway, and then turned his attention back to his refreshment. He knew exactly what Josef had been doing. Roisin had told him. Mick wasn't sure how big a deal he was supposed to make of it. Erring on the side of caution, he had decided to pretend he was none the wiser to Josef's decision to confront the past.

And then Josef was standing by Mick's side. The folder in his hand placed on the table in front of Mick. Two fingers tapped pointedly on top of it, drawing Mick's attention.

"You stayed with me," again the same focused tapping, "through all of this?"

"Of course," Mick looked up at Josef, his brow furrowed in confusion. He hadn't expected Josef to question the fact that he had stayed with him throughout those years. To Mick it had been a foregone conclusion. He loved Josef. Mick shook his head, his expression still couched in confusion, "Why wouldn't I?"

"I don't know," Josef chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, and then waved a hastily dismissive hand through the air. Trying to pretend the question hadn't been all that important. "It doesn't matter."

"Of course it doesn't," Mick laughed, and reached for Josef's hand, pulling Josef down onto his lap. Drawing Josef's attention toward the wedding bands that encircled both their fingers, Mick's voice shifted serious, "Do you think I wear that for decoration?"

"Well it is a very nice ring, Mick," Josef tried to make light of the situation. Rolling his eyes, and pretending to huff indignantly. "I paid a small fortune for it you know."

"Really? I thought you got it out of one of those dollar slot machines. You know the ones where you turn the little handle and out pops some plastic crap that's supposed to resemble something of value?"

Mick arched an eyebrow, and grinned, deciding to play along with Josef's obvious need to cover the embarrassment etched clear on his face. Josef hadn't meant to sound as if he were questioning Mick's loyalty, not really.

Josef shot Mick a sideways glance, "I haven't seen one of those in decades. Trust you to bring up some random 1950's nostalgia."

Josef's disapproving look was belied by the smile playing at the corners of his mouth. For the time being at least he was happy for their familiar back and forth banter to continue. It was giving him time to process what he had just learnt. Mick had given up nearly ten years of his life, for him. That knowledge weighed heavy on Josef's mind.

"You would have done the same for me," Mick reached up a hand to brush aside the veil of hair fallen in Josef's face. He had read Josef's expression. "And they had those dollar slot machines past the 1950's you know."

A brief moment of shared laughter, Josef admonishing Mick with an eye rolling, "I was well aware of that fact, Mick." And then the conversation shifted back along a more serious vein.

"It's been eighty years, Josef," Mick shook his head. His expression saddened, "I stayed with you because I love you. Why would you even think to question that?"

"Oh, like you've never questioned my devotion to you?" Josef rolled his eyes, and managed to look perfectly indignant. "Cut me some slack, I spent forty years carrying a torch for you, when you hardly even knew I existed. So excuse me if I occasionally manage to still be surprised at the fact we're even together. Let alone you giving up almost a decade of your immortality to take care of a raving lunatic."

Josef was on his feet then, walking over to the kitchen sink. His hands visibly shook as he reached for the bottle of blood left on the side, and poured himself a drink.

"I did notice you back then, you know." Josef felt the weight of Mick's body pressed against his back. Mick drew his arms around Josef's waist. His chin rested atop Josef's shoulder. "It was a bit hard not to. You tend to make your presence known."

"Oh, shut up." Josef scoffed, and then turned around to face Mick.  
"Make me." Mick issued Josef with an arched brow challenge, the line of his mouth drawn into a salacious edged grin.

A split second of hesitation, and then Josef's lips were crushed hard against Mick's own. And Mick was groaning his approval, chest vibrating with the sensation of Josef growling into his mouth. All of Josef's pent up emotions rushing forth in a torrent of kisses, hands fumbling to remove layers of clothing. The both of them quickly stripped naked.

And then Mick found himself being lifted up, onto the edge of the sink. A hand in the centre of his chest forcing him back into a reclining position. His legs pressed back against his chest. And Josef's head was between Mick's legs, hands spreading the cheeks of Mick's arse apart. His tongue pressed firmly against Mick's hole.

"Oh, shit." Mick groaned, and arched his back when he felt Josef's tongue penetrate his space. He braced his hands against the tile backing of the sink and concentrated on the sensations Josef was drawing from his body, trying to ignore the metal tap that dug uncomfortably into his spine.

Josef was already aware of Mick's predicament, well before Mick had even thought to draw attention to the fact. He halted his attentions for a moment, and quickly shifted Mick over to a more comfortable position, reclined back on the smooth granite top of the kitchen bench this time.

Mick groaned again, louder this time. His vocalisations quickly turning inhuman as Josef continued rimming him. A spit dampened finger tracing the perimeter of Mick's anus, opening him up more, allowing Josef's tongue to penetrate deeper.

Josef closed his eyes, and tried to block out the sounds Mick was making. The purring snarls and mewling whimpers of pleasure that elicited from Mick's mouth were just too damn arousing. Josef wondered if Mick was even aware of half the noises he made. He could make Mick come just from this alone. Thought about doing just that, and then quickly dismissed the idea. Another time perhaps, right now Josef's own erection strained painfully for attention.

A hurried coating of saliva slicked over the length of his cock, and Josef was shifting back up along Mick's body. Pulling Mick down to the slate floor below and penetrating him in one fluid rush of movement.

Mick wrapped his legs around Josef's waist, and clung to Josef's back as Josef began pounding into him. It had been a while since they had fucked like this. No holds barred, urgent, and desperate. Each thrust punctuated by a cacophony of animalistic grunts, and deep seated growls. The angle was perfect. Within minutes Mick knew Josef was going to make him come without placing a single finger anywhere near his cock.

The sound of the front door halted Josef mid stride. Placing a hand over Mick's mouth to try and muffle the noises Mick was making, he called out to Roisin. "You might not want to come into the kitchen."

"Sorry, Uncle Josef? I didn't…Oh for the love of…" Roisin stood in the doorway of the kitchen, hands on hips, a full view of her Uncles affairs thankfully blocked by the kitchen table. Still, she could see, and hear enough to know what was going on. "The two of you are hopeless," she declared, and then turned heel. Muttering something about 'at least it wasn't the kitchen table this time', under her breath as she hurriedly made her retreat.

"Welcome home, Roisin." Josef stifled a laugh, and called out after her.

"A basket of fruit would have sufficed, Uncle Josef." Roisin called back.

And then Josef was somehow trying to co-ordinate laughing, and climaxing at the same time. His fangs sunk deep into Mick's throat as he shook with a strange combination of pleasure, and spluttering amusement.

Seconds later Mick followed suit. Semen spilled onto his abdomen, Mick's own fangs biting hard into the flesh of Josef's shoulder. Mick dug fingernails into the skin of Josef's back, and growled his way through the waves of his own pleasure that crashed over him.

Later that evening Mick sat on the sofa in the lounge, with Josef curled up in his lap. Mick rested the guitar in his hands on top of Josef's shoulder, fingers plucking out an absent minded tune. The sound accompanied by the waterfall of a running shower.

"That's the third shower she's taken this evening."

"I know." Josef shifted position so that he was looking up at Mick, legs stretched out along the length of the couch. "Play that song you used to play for me."

"What…" The rest of Mick's words were swallowed by the realisation that dawned on him. It took him a moment to form an adequate response. "I didn't think you remembered anything from back then?"

"I don't," Josef shrugged, and settled back into his previous position, curled up sideways across Mick's lap. "Except for that one tune. I remember that, and I remember you played it so damn much I wanted to shove the guitar down your throat."

Mick shook his head, and furrowed his brow. His expression fell puzzled. "If you hate the song that much, why on earth do you want to hear it again now?"

"Do I need a reason?" Josef rolled his eyes, and huffed indignantly, "Just play the damn song."

"What did your last slave die of?" Mick scoffed tongue in cheek, and then launched into a rendition of the tune Josef had asked of him.

"Are you still planning on speaking to Roisin?" Josef asked Mick then.

Mick nodded, and muttered a non committal reply, "I guess so."

"When?"

Mick waited until he had plucked out the final refrain, before he answered.

"Right now."

Mick caught up with Roisin in the hallway. A bathrobe wrapped around Roisin's body. Hair dampened with droplets of moisture from the shower.

"Do you need to use the bathroom, Uncle Mick?" Roisin raised an awkward smile, and tried to muster a polite tone of voice, "I've finished in there if you do."

"No," Mick shook his head. Brow furrowed with a faint look of concern.

"Ok then." Roisin's face wrinkled with puzzlement, her voice hesitant. She wondered what her Uncle wanted. Words sensed unspoken in the air between them.

Another awkward smile, waiting for a conversation to begin. And then Roisin was offering Mick her 'goodnights', and preparing to take her leave.

"Wait," Mick snatched Roisin's arm, halting her as she brushed past him, "Can we talk?"

"Sure, I'd like that." Roisin's smile shifted genuine this time. A hand placed over Mick's own rested on her arm. "Just let me get dressed."

Mick met Roisin outside. Roisin bundled up in eiderdown jacket, and fleece line sweater. Braced against the cold night air, she held the neck of a Scotch bottle loosely in her hand.

"Drink?" Roisin raised the bottle toward her Uncle. Tumbler filled with ice already at hand.

'Sure." Mick nodded a polite assent, and then accepted the drink poured from Roisin's outstretched hand.

"I'm sorry about before," Roisin took a seat on the steps of the porch, next to Mick, "walking in on you and Uncle Josef like that."

"You do have a bad habit of doing that." Mick raised eyebrows, and threw back a mouthful of Scotch. A quick grin and a laugh offered at Roisin's expense.

"Force of." Roisin parried back, and then nudged her Uncle in the ribs with a grin, and a pointed elbow. "So, was it any good?"

Another grin, sheepish this time, more laughter shifting to embarrassment. And for a moment it felt the way it used to between them. Easy, like family.

Gradually the conversation shifted, over to more difficult matters. Stilted at first, and then gaining momentum, until it became a free flow exchange of thoughts, and memories. The past weighed in, for both of them.

_Paris: Fourteen Years Ago_

"Any regrets?" Auguste approached the girl standing out on the balcony. Her face smudged with streaks of black where she had rubbed the mascara and eye shadow from her eyes.

"I want to go home," Roisin stared out over the lights of the city below, and then turned to face Auguste. Her face couched in bitterness, "and I can't. So yeah, I have a few regrets, Count Dracula."

"We spoke about free will, Roisin" Auguste cupped his hand under Roisin's chin. Bidding her to look at him, "You don't have to do any of this. You say the word, and you will be out of here, and back with your family. Have I not promised you that?"

"Yeah," Roisin chewed on her bottom lip, and looked distracted for a moment. And then her features hardened, "But that's the thing though, isn't it, Drac? I don't have a home, and I don't have a family. The Legion has seen to that. And if I go back now, they'll only see to it again. So explain to me again how this free will and choice thing works."

"Point taken." A nod of deference, and then Auguste extended his arm, "Will you come back inside?"

"Are you going to stay here with me?" Roisin took Auguste's arm. Brow furrowed at the fact that her Vampiric guest appeared to have been allowed to stay past his welcome.

"For a little while," Auguste smiled, and tapped a conspiratorial finger against the corner of his eye, "they think I shall be helping you to settle into a transition to mortal life. It was part of the deal. Surely they couldn't expect a child bought up with Vampires to rejoin the mortal world, without some help from those she was more used to associating with."

"Well aren't you the cunning one?" Roisin laughed; a genuine laugh. And then once again her expression was falling plaintive. Childlike in her affect, her teeth working distractedly over her bottom lip. She looked lost, and pensive.

"You miss them, I know." Auguste didn't need to hear the words formed on Roisin's lips, "but one day, your family will be very proud of you."

"I hope so."

When Roisin spoke her voice was quiet. Not so quiet though that Auguste couldn't hear the determination in it. He drew a comforting arm around her shoulder, and let the weight of her body rest against his.

The same city, another world away, a mother's anguish still raged.

"What do you mean you didn't know? You work for them." Katherine railed at Pierre, pacing the floor back and forth, pausing every now and then to drag frustrated hands through a tangle of hair.

"Auguste is Grand Chancellor, Katherine," again Pierre repeated the same tired argument. Throat parched, and temples throbbing from the circles they seemed to run ragged. "I'm not always privy to every single decision he makes on behalf of the Vampire nation."

Exhausted, Katherine fell into a dejected silence then. Pierre turned his attention to the two Vampires slumped in the corner of the room. Mick seated with his back against the wall. Eyes closed, trying to block out a moment in time. Josef curled up in his lap. Blank faced and oblivious to everything.

"Mick?" Pierre approached cautiously. Kneeling, he extended a hand toward them.

"Touch him, and I'll put you through the wall." Mick snatched Pierre's wrist in mid air, his eyes flashing open.

Pierre carefully extricated his arm from Mick's grip, and took a seat alongside him. His own back rested against the wall, the position of their bodies mirrored.

"You've been sitting there for almost twenty hours, Mick," Pierre's voice radiated concern, "the sun will be up soon."

"Then I'll wait for the sun to come up, and we'll go from there." Mick drew his arms tighter around Josef's shoulder, and let his eyes fall shut again.

"Mick, when the sun rises, things will still be exactly as they are now," Pierre tried to appeal to reason, "You know that."

"Yeah, I know," Mick drew an unneeded breath, and swallowed the lump of emotion risen in his throat. "But right now, I really want to just sit here, and pretend things are okay. For a few more hours at least."

"My whole world fell apart that night, Roisin."

They were back to the present then. Mick draining the remainder of his Scotch, an empty glass twirled in his hand.

"Lucky you," Roisin gave a sniff of wry laughter, and cocked her eyebrows, "my world had already fallen apart long before then. Do you think it was easy for me to watch the only family I've ever known, unraveling before my eyes?"

"No." Mick reached for the bottle of Scotch, and poured another drink.

"You asked me, how I could stand to have that man touch me," Roisin locked her eyes on a point off in the distance. Her voice quietly determined against a tide of emotion, "I lie back, and I close my eyes, and I imagine how good it will feel to snap his neck. I know you hate them, as much as I do, and I know you want revenge. Well guess what, so do I..."

And then Roisin followed up with words echoed from the past.

"…I want them dead, Uncle Mick, all of them."

Mick looked taken aback. Roisin's sense of conviction was evident in the strength of her voice. And then there was the strange sense of déjà vu.

Taking a moment to steady himself, Mick smiled, hand extended toward Roisin, "I think that's something we can both work with. Deal?"

Roisin pretended she was weighing up her options, and then quickly accepted her Uncle's proffered hand, "Deal."

And then Roisin was being pulled into an embrace. The first genuine embrace she had felt from her Uncle since returning to their lives. She let her head rest in the crook of Mick's shoulder, and quietly revelled in the warmth of the moment.

"So, tell me, how did it go?"

"Good," Mick tried to formulate a proper response. Distracted by the feel of Josef's hands roaming over the expanse of his skin, Josef's lips pressed against his own, the two of them kissing, repeatedly, "I think we've found some common ground we can work with. Are you ok?"

"Still processing," Josef shifted closer, another exchange of kisses, "and I still can't believe you stayed with me…"

Again, Mick tried to offer his reassurances. Josef seemed intent on ignoring him.

"…I wouldn't have stayed with me. Maudlin or not, I'm sure as hell glad you chose to move us out into the middle of nowhere. At least I didn't have to deal with complete public humiliation, on top of everything else."

"I know, Josef," Mick tried to affect a mock serious expression, "you have a reputation to uphold."

"Well I'm glad you find it amusing." Josef extricated himself from Mick's embrace, and lay staring up at the ceiling. An expression somewhere between hurt, and righteous indignation, fallen across his face.

"I'm sorry…"

"…do I look like the sort of man who enjoys running around acting like a deranged lunatic?"

The disgust in Josef's voice was evident. Mick had been trying to offer a moment of distracting humour before. Now Mick's own expression shifted contrite.

"I'm sorry," Mick edged closer. Head rested on the pillow next to Josef's. One hand tracing lines back and forth across his chest, "You have your pride, I know."

Josef muttered a noncommittal reply. And then took a moment to concentrate on dampening some of the more vivid images of past embarrassments; that fought for attention in his minds eye.

And then they were both shifting back into one another's space. Limbs entwined. Mouths and bodies pressed together. The past washed away in a rising tide of pleasure.

* * *

"Uncle Mick, relax." Roisin laughed, and placed a steadying hand on Mick's shoulder.

They had been training, together. At Roisin's request, Mick had joined her for sword practice, despite protests and questions. Mick didn't really know how to wield a blade that well, wouldn't Roisin be better off asking her Uncle Josef.

Now he hovered nervously around her. A slip of the hand and the point of Mick's blade had made contact with Roisin's forearm. The skin unbroken, nevertheless it had been a near miss.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't…."

"…Uncle Mick, relax." Her hand tightening on Mick's shoulder, the tone of Roisin's voice shifted to placation.

The past few days, since they had talked, things had seemed better. Or at least Mick had taken to making an effort to connect more with his niece. Sometimes though, Roisin couldn't help noting there was something that felt forced. Mick seemed to be making a bit too much of an effort at times.

"It never used to be like this for us, did it, Uncle Mick." Roisin's expression shifted nostalgic then. A wan smile offered for a relationship past. "It used to be easy, like family."

"I'm trying, Roisin, ok." Mick took a step back. Hands raised, asking for patience.

"I know," Roisin nodded her understanding, "I appreciate it."

And then Mick was being pulled away, Roisin tugging at his arm, insistent. The three of them needed to get out for a while. There was a new Club just opened in Bratislava. Downstairs, at the Hotel Arcadia, offered a Saturday night Jazz show, and drinks. It was perfect, something relaxed, and easy for them.

An hour later Mick found himself in the pale blue light of a smoke filled room. Josef had gone to the bar to fetch drinks. Roisin stood nearby, her foot tapping in time to the rhythm of the music that filled the air.

A woman approached. Sashaying seductive hipped from the other side of the room.

"You look like you could do with some company. Would you like to join us for a drink?"

"I'm with someone," Mick declined the offer with a polite smile.

The woman made a disappointed noise at the back of her throat, and rolled her eyes. "Figures." And then she was offering Mick a polite smile of her own, less inviting this time, "She's a lucky girl."

A brief laugh, a disbelieving shake of the head, and then Mick was pointing across to Josef standing at the bar, "Lucky guy actually, that's my husband."

"Husband?" The woman raised a disappointed eyebrow, "Damn what a waste. Nice looking guy like you? You just haven't met the right woman yet."

Mick stifled a laugh, and shook his head at the way the woman was looking at him. As if she held the secret of redemption, ready to rescue him from the lack of vagina in his life.

"Maybe I've just met the right person." Mick greeted Josef's return with a kiss, an arm drawn around Josef's waist, pulling him close.

"Are we discussing sex?" Josef grinned and returned Mick's affection, waiting to be filled in on the conversation at hand.

"Don't knock it 'till you've tried it." The woman arched a knowing eyebrow then. One hand rested on her hip, the other flicking her hair over her shoulders.

"Actually, I have tried it," Mick grinned, unabashed.

"Oh, right, you're one of those then." Mick's would be redeemer turned her head in disgust.

"One of those what?" Josef interjected with overtones of exaggerated politeness.

"I think she means one of those bisexual types who can't make up their mind." Mick offered helpfully.

Josef pretended to look utterly confused at the situation, "But you've made up your mind, you're with me."

"I know," Mick's expression shifted mock frustrated, "I keep trying to explain that to her, but she just won't listen."

"Humans." Josef snorted a laugh and rolled his eyes. And then his attention was turned back to the woman radiating disapproval in front of them. "Actually we're Vampires."

"Yeah, sure you are,"

The woman offered Josef a patronising smile, and went to walk way, intent on scoping out another suitor before the evening was out. Her back turned she heard the sound of a low growl reach her ears. The two men behind her stood and smiled, affecting a look of perfect innocence. And then they were both revealing sharpened canines. The colour drained from their faces, revealing a corpselike pallor.

No, it was a trick of the light. It had to be. The woman shook her head, determined her mind was playing tricks, and quickly scurried away.

"I don't think she'll be having anything else to drink tonight." Josef laughed, and raised the glass of wine in his hand in a mock toast.

"You're dreadful sometimes," Mick chided with good humour. And then Mick was drawing in a shock of unneeded breath, his sense of humour shifting to a darkened expression, "Son of a bitch!"

Josef followed Mick's line of sight. His stomach lurched at the vision of a familiar face leaning against the bar where he had just stood, waving to them both. A rogue's smile etched on his face.  
"Mick," Josef's discourse shifted to panic when he realised Mick was preparing to launch himself at Terrence, "Not here, not like this. Just focus on me, alright?"

Mick felt Josef's hands pin his arms, holding him off. He turned and drew Josef into an embrace. Arms wrapped tight around Josef's shoulders, Mick could feel Josef trembling with fear and rage. It only served to heighten his own.

"Mick, don't let go of me." Again the same panic edged tone from Josef, and then his voice shifted to self reproach, "Christ, this is embarrassing. I feel like an idiot. He's human for fuck sake."

Mick held tighter. Out of the corner of his eye Josef watched Roisin approach Terrence. Snatches of their exchange reached his ears.

"What the hell are you doing here? Are you completely insane, how did you find us?"

And then Terrence replying, something about them keeping tabs on Roisin. A voice shifting to seductive invite, wasn't he allowed to see the mother of his child?

"I'm supposed to be tricking them into thinking they can trust me," Roisin hissed a pointed reminder. Teeth clenched in fury, "Or have you forgotten the exact directives of our plan."

The exchange ended then. Terrence could be heard stammering out a hurried apology. Sounding put out, and frustrated at Roisin's rejection.

Roisin rejoined her Uncles when Terrence had taken his leave, filled with apology.

"I am so sorry. I had no idea he was going to show…"

"It's fine," Josef interrupted Roisin's contrition. Hand raised, palm up, halting the flow of her words. "It's fine, really. Let's just call it a night and get out of here."

The drive home was undertaken in relative silence. Roisin sat in the back seat, her head pressed against the window. It was supposed to have been a relaxing night out, to help her reconnect with her family, especially Mick. Roisin mentally cursed Terrence, the Legion, life, the universe, and everything in it.

The sound of Mick's fist banging against the steering wheel as he pounded it in frustrated anger, snapped everyone to attention.

"How the hell can you even think of having a child with that guy, Roisin?"

Josef shot Mick a sideways glance, surprised at the anger in Mick's voice.

"I try not to think about it," Roisin's reply came low, and determined. Each word delivered with careful measure, "And it is not my unborn child's fault that her father is a complete prick."

"Ok you two, back it off. We're supposed to be playing happy families, remember." Josef forced a laugh, his attempt at tossing some trademark sarcasm into the mix hampered by his own disappointment in how the night had ended.

And then they were driving through the gates, and pulling up to the front of their house. The engine switched off, seatbelts disengaged, and the sound of a familiar Irish lilt drifting towards them from the front steps.

"Took you long enough to get home, I've been waiting for over an hour."

"Katherine," Mick quickly stepped forward to greet their unexpected guest, pulling her into a welcome embrace, "It's good to see you. Thank you for coming."


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Mick stepped into the shower, and positioned himself under the spray. Eyes closed for a moment, trying to concentrate on letting the water wash away whatever emotions Josef hadn't managed to relieve him of the night before.

Katherine hadn't stayed long, promising to come back at first light. The reunion had been brief, charged with emotion. Mick couldn't help but feel the entire scene was like watching the past play out all over again, only this time in reverse. Tears were shed, mother and daughter clinging to one another. Josef stood off to one side, and tried to look as if he were taking it all in his stride. The tear tracks on his face, hurriedly scrubbed away with the back of his hand as quickly as they appeared, told a different story.

Mick had been the one who had asked Katherine to come. He had received a phone call from Auguste the week before. Katherine had been in touch, after all these years.

A contact number had been passed on. Auguste deferring to Mick's own judgment what he wanted to do with it. It had taken Mick less than a day to decide. He needed Katherine back, they all did. He couldn't handle the situation alone. Roisin, Terrence, The Legion, worries about Josef. Mick's own frustration, and disquiet in the face of everything.

Mick opened his eyes, and stepped back. Aiming the nozzle of the shower at his torso, as he reached for the soap. Josef stepped into the small cubicle behind Mick, taking the bar from Mick's hand, an arm drawn around Mick's chest, holding him close. Josef's freehand held the soap, and lathered circles over Mick's stomach. They managed an awkward kiss, Mick twisting his face around to meet Josef's.

"You know I swear sometimes I think I love you so much it actually physically hurts." Josef rested his chin on Mick's shoulder, his hand shifting down to grip Mick's cock. Words delivered with a nonchalant air, as if he were remarking on a simple statement of fact.

"They have pills for that you know," Mick grinned, and then chuckled, leaning back into Josef's embrace, "You should see a Doctor."

"Very funny." Josef snorted a derisive laugh, and uttered a single, teasing word into the side of Mick's neck, "Asshole."

And then Mick found himself pressed face first against the shower wall. Hands braced against the tiles, forehead rested on cool enamel as Josef hurriedly slicked his cock with an application of makeshift lubricant, and entered him. Slow and steady, holding close. The pace gentler than it had been last night. But not so gentle that Mick wasn't soon gritting his teeth, and muttering expletives under his breath with every thrust.

Out in the Kitchen, a few short metres away, mother and daughter sat at a table, and tried to enact a scene of domestic harmony. Pretending they didn't hear the increasingly loud vocalisations of pleasure coming from the other room.

"_Oh Jesus, fuck._"

And then a hand clapped over Mick's mouth, hushing him, "_Keep it down_."

"Uncle Josef promised he was going to do something about that mouse problem we've been having." Roisin reached for a sip of orange juice, and took another bite of croissant.

"They must be awfully big mice, sweetheart." Katherine stifled a laugh, and faked an overly sympathetic tone.

"Huge." Roisin deadpanned. And then mother and daughter were both collapsing in fits of laughter.

"I've missed you so much." Katherine was suddenly awash with emotion. Shifting to draw Roisin into an impulsive hug.

"Me too." Roisin's voice was soft, and quiet as she leant into her mother's embrace.

"Christ," Katherine broke away, and held Roisin at arms length a few moments later. Frustration weighed heavily on her voice, "I still can't believe you're pregnant. Have you not heard of contraception?"

"Mum, don't…"

"I didn't think Catholics were allowed to use contraception?" Mick's appearance interrupted the conversation. A bathrobe wrapped around his naked form. Brow furrowed in puzzlement as he caught the tail end of the conversation.

"Humanae Vitae was overturned fifty years ago," Katherine waved a dismissive hand, "There was a council. And that still doesn't change the fact that I'm going to be a grandmother. Look at me, do I look like a grandmother to you?"

Katherine's tone shifted closer to righteous indignation. Her words sounding clipped, sharper than she intended.

"Do I look like a Great, Great Uncle?" Josef interjected then, entering the kitchen. A glass of blood quickly poured, and then downed in hurried gulps. Another pressed into Mick's hand with a smile, and a welcome kiss.

Katherine muttered something unintelligible under her breath, and then Mick cut in.

"Has Roisin told you who the father is?" Mick figured it was better Katherine heard it from one of them; silently crossing his fingers the conversation between mother and daughter had already been carried out, and he didn't have to be the one to drop the bombshell.

"Yes, she has…"

A curt nod, expression darkening for a moment, and then Katherine didn't have a chance to say anything further. Roisin leapt up from the table, traces of blood scent from Mick's now empty glass having reached her nostrils, and vomited her breakfast into the sink.

"…And whoever he is, it's not relevant," Katherine shifted into practical mode, nodding her affirmation. "Getting worked up isn't going to change any of the facts. I say we forget about it, and concentrate on getting Roisin through this experience."

Not for the first time since Katherine had returned, Mick found himself breathing a sigh of relief. This is what he had called her for. The pressure had been taken off. Katherine had come to help, bringing practicality with her. Now he could concentrate on helping Josef. Getting Josef through the situation. Just like Josef had asked.

"I'll get an appointment set up with a neonatal clinic first thing tomorrow," Mick heard Katherine announce then, Katherine on her feet, and standing beside Roisin. Roisin still retching the last of her stomach contents. A hand traced soothing circles over her daughter's back, "In the meantime, Pierre and I are booked into the Crowne Plaza."

"You're welcome to stay with us." Josef offered, shifting closer to Mick. Mick's arm drawn around Josef's waist, Josef's fingers entwining with Mick's own.

Katherine declined the offer, citing lack of space. They'd downgraded considerably in terms of house size. There simply wasn't enough room for her, and Pierre to exist comfortably. Not crammed in the way they'd be. The hotel was the far more sensible, and appealing option.

A fleeting look of disappointment, And then Josef seemed to accept the situation with good grace, and understanding. But Mick could feel the tremors that ran the length of Josef's spine. Muscles wound tight, knots of tension across his shoulders. Breath hitched, and throat bobbing. Swallowing back repeated waves of emotion.

Mick shifted a hand to the middle of Josef's chest. Pressing firm, and holding close. Fingers rubbing casual circles over robe covered flesh. Trying to remind Josef that he didn't need to breathe so fast, and shallow, didn't need to breathe at all unless he chose to.

And then Josef was whispering something about needing Mick to give him a hand. They had matters that really needed to be taken care of, elsewhere. Besides, Roisin, and Katherine should be allowed to enjoy some mother and child reunion time alone.

Mick didn't need to ask twice, didn't even need to ask once. He knew the direction Josef was headed. And so it seemed did Katherine.

"Listen, I might take Roisin out for a while, she can show me around the city. It might do her good to get some fresh air. I know this must be a lot for everyone to take in at once, my returning out of the blue like this. We'll go, give you some space for a while…"

Katherine was nodding a little too eagerly. Mick didn't know whether to be grateful to her for picking up on the situation before anyone was forced to start dropping hints, or cringe at the way she was making things so damn obvious.

He chose the former, and said a quick, "Thank you." His gratitude evident as he watched mother, and daughter gather up jackets, and bags, and take their leave. Roisin slinging a cheeky, "Have fun," over her shoulder just before they disappeared out the door.

"Come here." Josef spun Mick around, when Katherine and Roisin had left, and drew him close all in the same practiced move. Bodies pressed together, urgent. Josef's lips crushed hard against Mick's own.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." Mick gritted his teeth, and muttered repeatedly under his breath. Josef was riding hard up against him, having managed to somehow manoeuvre Mick up against a wall without Mick even realising. Mick's robe quickly dispensed with, Josef following suit with his own. And then they were both staggering towards the bedroom. Half stumbling, half dragging one another along, and for a moment Mick wasn't sure they were going to make it. Thought Josef would press him down to the floor half way, and fuck him right then and there.

Not such a bad idea. But somehow they got where they were going, eventually, and Mick found himself being pressed back against the mattress instead.

"Wait," Mick bought a halt to proceedings then. Holding Josef off, concern breaking through his arousal, "we're going from zero to a hundred in ten seconds flat. Family reunion one minute, and then you're dragging me away like we haven't fucked in weeks. I need to know you're ok. Are you ok?"

Mick brushed the back of a worried hand along the side of Josef's face. Josef reached for Mick's hand, and pressed Mick's palm against his lips. "I'm fine…"

"…Are you-?"

"- Yes I'm sure, stop worrying…"

Josef lowered his head for another round of lip crushing, tongue in mouth exploration. And then he was shifting his lips down to Mick's throat.

"…Just, last night," Mick was listening to Josef tell him then. Josef's breath fanned hot against the side of Mick's neck. Bodies starting to grind against one another like before, "him turning up like that, and Roisin, and then Katherine, and us talking to them just then, and…"

"Josef, relax." Mick halted Josef's flow of words, and drew him in for another kiss, "It's cool. I've got you…"

"…I just really need to get rid of some of this excess energy," Josef broke away from the kiss, and buried his face back into Mick's shoulder, "All of this has got me way too fucking charged up."

The way Josef said those words.

_Christ. _

And then Josef was instructing Mick to, "Turn over, get on your hands and knees," and working Mick into position at the same time, voice brimming with urgency. And Mick had no doubt Josef was planning to fuck him six ways from Sunday.

_Fine by him. _

* * *

Katherine dropped Roisin back in the afternoon. And returned that evening, still without Pierre. Pierre wanted to give them space, time to reconnect Katherine explained, when both Josef, and Mick asked after the whereabouts of her husband.

"I still can't believe you actually married him," Mick shook his head, and snorted a disbelieving laugh. "So many years have passed."

Mick's expression fell serious then. Contemplating the time that had already been.

The hour was late. Josef, and Roisin had retired for the night some hours ago. Mick and Katherine deciding they wanted, no, needed to stay up, and talk. They sat outside on the steps of the back porch now, sharing Scotch and memories.

"I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you back then." Katherine averted her eyes for a moment, dampening emotion, and then took a draw of liquor straight from the bottle.

"You had other things to worry about," Mick waved a dismissive hand, none of that mattered now, and reached for the bottle himself. "We both did."

"How is he, really?" Katherine asked then, needing to be reassured. Despite their separation, and the passage of time between them, Katherine still cared for Josef. Had never stopped caring for her sire. "I mean everything is ok now, Josef has made a full recovery, right?"

"For the most part," Mick knocked back a few mouthfuls of Scotch. Paused, and then knocked back a few more for good measure. "I mean, yeah, as far as that side of things goes he's completely recovered. Still doesn't mean…"

"…You don't get scared that it will happen again."

"Yeah, exactly," Mick nodded his confirmation. "And all of this with Roisin, and The Legion, and the father of her child. It's a hell of a lot to process. For both of us."

"I can imagine it would be," Katherine kept her voice light. A hand rested on Mick's forearm, letting Mick talk.

Mick noticed the gesture. Appreciated it. Appreciated the opportunity to share. He couldn't do it alone, not this time. Mick told Katherine as much.

"You'll get through it," Katherine offered her own reassurances then, triggering a sense of déjà vu. Memories of another time, and place when she had spoken those same words, "We all will."

"I hope so." Mick nodded again, reflective this time, feeling the slight burn of dusky amber fluid as he slugged a few more shots straight from the bottle Katherine had passed back to him.

And they were talking out the remainder of the night. Shifting from one memory to the next. Experiences shared. Gratitude, and understanding offered.

Floodgates open, and words pouring forth. Until there was nothing left to reveal.

* * *

"Good morning." Josef approached Mick standing bleary eyed, and nursing a glass of blood at the kitchen sink, "What time did Katherine leave?"

Mick stifled a yawn, "It was late, I'm not sure. Is Roisin awake yet?"

"No," Josef shifted closer, arms drawn around Mick's waist from behind. "You should hit the Freezer again for a few hours, try and get some more sleep."

Mick smiled at Josef's casual concern, interlacing his fingers with Josef's own, "I'll be ok. I thought we could do something, get out of house, go for a walk, get some fresh air and sunshine."

"Just what every Vampire needs," Josef tittered.

"Yeah alright," Mick rolled his eyes, and huffed with pretend indignation. "Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit you know."

"Really?" Josef's responded with clipped tone haughtiness, and arched a facetious eyebrow. "I thought I'd raised it to an art form."

"Yeah, ok." Mick snorted a laugh, and leant back into Josef's embrace. "Katherine's going to be here around ten, she's taking Roisin to that ultrasonic appointment today."

"Ultrasound, Mick," Josef corrected, "it's called an Ultrasound, not ultrasonic."

Mick furrowed his brow in tired annoyance, and offered a lackadaisical hand wave. "Whatever, we have a few hours to ourselves, do you want to do or something or not?"

"Sure." Josef ignored Mick's vexation, and drew his arms tighter around Mick's waist. "Just let me finish getting dressed, and we'll head out for a walk. The forest is shaded."

A brief kiss, declarations of love exchanged. And then they were both shifting off. Readying for the day ahead.

* * *

"I just need your weight and blood pressure, and then I'll take you through for your Ultrasound," the Nurse smiled as she manoeuvred Roisin onto the scales, and placed the blood pressure cuff around Roisin's arm.

Katherine hovered nervously around her daughter, peering expectantly every now and then at the notes in the Nurse's hand. Roisin herself seemed disconnected. Fixing her eyes straight ahead most of the time, she appeared to be moving through the appointment on automatic pilot, affecting an air of resignation.

Katherine placed a motherly hand on Roisin's shoulder. Assuming her daughter was experiencing an understandable fit of nerves. And then turned her attention to the Nurse, "Is everything ok?"  
"All within normal limits so far," the Nurse replied in her heavily accented English, offering a reassuring smile to Mother and Daughter in turn. "I'll take you through for your Ultrasound now, Roisin."

More smiles, a guiding hand placed on the small of Roisin's back. And Roisin was being lead down a corridor, towards another exam room.

The Nurse chatted breezily as she passed the scanning wand over Roisin's abdomen. Keeping up a running dialogue of explanation, and pausing every so often to point out an area of interest.

Katherine stared at the flickering rhythm of a heartbeat in front of her. Two small Xs, a line measured between them, marked the baby's size.

Roisin, for her part, didn't bother to look at the screen. Turning her head away and keeping her eyes fixed level with a mark on the opposite side wall.

"All done, congratulations you have a perfectly normal, healthy pregnancy," the Nurse patted Roisin's hand, and then furrowed her brow, and spoke with quiet concern. "Don't you want to see your baby?"

'Of course," Roisin forced a girlish laugh. "You're probably going to think this is silly, but I just don't want the wonder of it all to be ruined. It's my first child, and…"

"…I understand," another pat of Roisin's hand, a quick smile. And then the Nurse leant closer, as if she were imparting some secret doctrine. "When I was pregnant with my first child, I couldn't finish painting the nursery. I have no idea why, but I just felt I had to leave one section of the room unpainted until the baby was born."

Roisin pretended to breathe a sigh of relief, looking as if she were pleased to be offered a moment of female camaraderie.

Katherine saw through her daughter's charade.

"Roisin," Katherine confronted Roisin when they were in the car, "do you want this baby?"

"It's not my unborn child's fault…"

"That's not what I asked." Katherine interrupted her daughter's refrain.

"We'll be fine." Roisin murmured, and then turned her attention to the world outside her car window. Effectively ending the conversation.

* * *

"You used to come here a lot." Mick looked troubled by the memory.

Josef glanced around the ruins of the old church, trying to gauge a sense of familiarity. Moss covered rubble fallen in haphazard piles, part of a stone wall, and the altar still standing.

"I can think of better things to do than talk about the past, Mick." A quick smile, the arch of an eyebrow, and Josef shifted towards Mick. His arms drawn around Mick's waist, lips pressed against Mick's own. Seeking to distract Mick from his thoughts.

Mick groaned with approval, and arched into the embrace, his body held firm against Josef's. One hand caressing the expanse of Josef's back, fingers tangling in Josef's hair.

Josef's hands shifted to the waistband of Mick's jeans, making light work of the various fastenings. And then Mick found his jeans slung around his knees, his underwear following suit.

A sharp intake of breath at the brief shock of cold air on his naked skin, and then Mick was letting out another groan of approval. Fangs pricking his lower lip, and head buried against the top of Josef's shoulder. As Josef's fingers encircled Mick's cock, and began to work a steady rhythm back and forth along its length.

"Mick, look at me," Josef guided Mick back against the altar for support. "I want to see your expression when you come."

Mick obeyed Josef's direction, his forehead rested against Josef's own. Gazes locked together. Their rate of breath synchronised.

"Oh fuck," Mick gasped, breath falling ragged as Josef stepped up the pace and began murmuring a low prayer in Latin. "I have absolutely no idea what you're saying, but shit that is hot. Keep talking."

"I'm praying for your immortal soul." Josef cupped Mick's face with his free hand, and then kissed him.

Whether through lack of sleep, or just the overall strain of the past few weeks, Josef's words resonated with Mick, and opened a floodgate of emotion.

Mick came in a mess of tears, and blood, and semen. When it was over, Josef lowered Mick to the ground, and drew his arms around Mick's shoulders, waiting for the last of Mick's sobs to subside.

"Crap." Mick scrubbed the back of an embarrassed hand across his eyes, nose swollen, and face blotchy from crying, and then tried to make light of the situation. "Well go on, out with it. I know you're dying to say something devastatingly witty."

'Do you want me to say something devastatingly witty, Mick?"

Before Mick could respond, the shrill ring of Josef's cell phone cut in.

Mick listened as Josef conducted a brief conversation with the person on the other end of the line. Questions posed, and answered. Times discussed, and arrangements made.

"That was Katherine," Josef said as he ended the call, "apparently Roisin's appointment went well, all things considered. She's asked us to meet them in the city. Spend the afternoon with her, and Roisin. Are you up for it? "

Mick shook his head. "You go. I really think I need to hit the Freezer. I didn't realise how sleep deprived I was."

Mick stifled an embarrassed laugh. And then Josef was standing up, and helping Mick to his feet. Asking Mick if he was sure, offering to stay if Mick needed.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Mick brushed Josef's concerns aside with an abashed smile, "I just need to rest."

"Sure." Josef nodded his understanding, and then took Mick by the hand as they retraced their forest steps.

* * *

"You certainly looked like you were enjoying that apple pie concoction, considering you put away three slices."

"I'm eating for two now, Uncle Josef."

"Really, so when do the pickles, and ice cream come into play?"

"That's an old wives tale." Roisin rolled her eyes, and pretended to admonish her Uncle. Enjoying a moment of familial ease as they walked through the open front door.

"I'm just going to see if your Uncle Mick is awake." Roisin heard her Uncle Josef saying then. Offering an agreeable smile in response, and muttering something about work she needed to catch up on.

Seconds later, Roisin was surveying the devastation in her room. Drawers upended, and cupboards ransacked, papers, and digital media strewn across the floor.

"Uncle Josef?" Roisin fled from the room in a panic, and found her Uncle crouched pale faced, and shaken on the floor of his Freezer room. The contents of an envelope spread out in front of him, a photographic record of his torture at the hands of the Legion. "Oh Jesus, no. Uncle Josef, listen to me," Roisin pleaded, and crouched alongside. A steadying hand placed on her Uncle's back as he began to dry retch, "Uncle Mick's taken the security records from my room. He knows where Terrence is staying. I've worked for more than ten years to see justice served to my family. We have the opportunity to take the Legion down, once, and for all. Uncle Mick will ruin everything if he goes after Terrence now. We have to stop him."

"Shit." Josef gritted his teeth, and cursed under his breath. And then he was taking a few moments to pull himself together, and getting to his feet.

Fetching the keys to the car Josef headed off after Mick, intent on stopping his husband. Before he did something insanely stupid.

* * *

By the time Josef had screeched to a halt outside the place Roisin had indicated Terrence was staying, Auguste Vasilescu was already on the scene. Josef reasoned Roisin must have made a phone call just after he had left. Perhaps she thought Auguste could get there sooner.

"We have this house under twenty four hour surveillance. He's not even home." Josef could hear Auguste trying to reason with Mick as he approached. Mick sprawled out on the ground and staked. Still trying to struggle despite his paralysis.

"It's ok, I've got it from here." Josef tried to affect a confident tone, hands held outstretched in a gesture of reassurance. He stopped a few paces short, hoping it would be seen as a sign of respect, and waited for Auguste to respond. The last thing Josef wanted to do was antagonise the situation. Not with Mick lying there in front of him the way he was, a piece of wood sticking out of his chest.

A moment of apparent thought, and then Auguste was offering a curt agreement, and pulling the stake from Mick's chest. In a split second Mick scrambled to his feet, and turned towards the house, still intent on getting inside and wreaking havoc.

Auguste caught Mick before Josef even had a chance to move. Auguste's hands gripping Mick's head either side, halting Mick in his tracks.

Josef looked on in horror as Auguste began to exert pressure. He had more than sufficient strength to crush Mick's skull to a pulp, effectively decapitating him. Blood began to pour from Mick's nose. His cheeks streaked with bloody tears.

Josef dropped to his knees, and pleaded. "Don't, please."

Mick sensed his skull caving in at any moment. His vision blackened. A few more seconds, the slightest increase in pressure, and death seemed imminent.

And then Auguste released his hold on Mick's head.

"You are very lucky that I hold both you, and your husband in such high esteem, Mick St John," Auguste shoved Mick towards Josef, marking his words with a pointed finger, "Under any other circumstance I would be well within my rights, and power as Grand Chancellor to have you executed. Now get out of here, before I change my mind."

A quick nod of gratitude, and Josef was taking Mick by the arm and leading him back towards the car. Muscles tensed, and heart racing as he silently prayed Mick wasn't going to try pulling any more stupid stunts.

It wasn't until they were half way home that Josef began to relax. His shoulders seemed to slump with relief, his body still shaking with the adrenalin of the situation. He glanced at Mick seated next to him. Mick focused on the passing world outside his passenger side window, nails bitten and fingers drumming against the upholstery of the door.

Neither of them spoke a word. And then they were pulling into the driveway. Greeted by the sight of Katherine and Pierre standing watch.

Josef enacted a brief reunion, offering his belated congratulations, and remarking about 'difficult situations'. He wished they had been able to meet again under better circumstances. Mick wasn't in the mood for polite conversation. Opting instead to head straight for the privacy of the bedroom.

More well wishes. A quick final round of 'nice to see you again'. And Josef headed off after Mick.

"Uncle Josef, is…?" Roisin approached Josef inside.

"…Everything's fine." Josef cut his niece off with a stilling hand, "I need to have a word with your Uncle Mick."

Mick was attempting to wear a hole in the floor through pacing, when Josef stepped into the room. The sound of the door opening, and then Josef's appearance, halted Mick in his tracks.

"Josef," Mick turned to Josef, intent on opening a line of dialogue. His discord still apparent, "You don't understand…"

"You stupid son of a bitch!" Josef's fist connected with Mick's jaw and sent him flying.

Mick staggered to his feet, spitting blood and fragments of teeth. "You broke my fucking jaw."

"Really?" Josef arched an eyebrow, and then shot Mick a pointed look, "Well that's less than what Auguste Vasilescu was planning to do. I can't believe you had me on my knees, begging. I hate begging. Jesus Christ, Mick. What the hell is wrong with you? None of this is worth getting yourself killed over. You, you are what matters to me, not…"

Mick waited for bones to finish knitting and broken teeth to heal, before interrupting Josef's planned tirade.

"…Josef, he's taunting us. Those pictures were delivered here just after you left. I hadn't even had a chance to knock back a glass of blood, and get undressed before that envelope was being pushed through the delivery slot - "

"- Did you see who it…?"

"Just a postal worker." Mick waved a dismissive hand, and then sat down on the bed. Head lowered, and fingers rubbing frustrated lines across his forehead.

"Shit." Josef swore under his breath, and then sat down next to Mick. The back of his hand brushed the side of Mick's face. "How's the jaw?"

Mick shrugged, "I'll live."

"Mick, look at me," Mick heard Josef telling him then, waiting for Mick's gaze to meet his, "Do you love me?

Mick raised his eyes skyward, and shook his head. He wasn't going to dignify that with a response. And then he had a change of heart.

"You know I do."

"Good," Josef offered Mick a satisfied nod. "Then can you please just do one thing for me, and not try and get yourself killed?"

Mick snorted a weak laugh, and then rested his head on Josef's shoulder. "Yeah, okay."

A moment of tenderness, a quick embrace. And then Josef was disentangling himself, and getting to his feet. Announcing that he needed to speak with Roisin.

He caught up with her in the hallway, Cell Phone in hand.

"I was just coming to see you," Roisin halted the words formed on her Uncle's lips, "I need you and Uncle Mick to be really quiet for a moment, I'm about to make a phone call."

"Phone call, to who?" Mick appeared alongside Josef. His expression demanded answers.

"To someone who can provide a solution to this whole sorry mess." Leaning against the wall of the passage Roisin quickly keyed in a series of numbers. Placed the Cell Phone to her ear. Waited for a familiar voice to answer.

And then both Josef and Mick found themselves privy to a conversation they were certain was never meant for their ears. Roisin addressing the head of the Legion like an old familiar friend, asking after the family, expressing her disappointment that she was unable to be with them. And then the discussion shifted to more pressing matters. Terrence was a loose canon, Terrence's antics were jeopardising their entire mission, how much longer should he be allowed to get away with this?

The conversation continued, Roisin clucking with pretend sympathy. Cajoling. Yes she did understand how difficult a decision this must be; yes of course she was aware that Terrence was a favoured son. This wasn't easy for her either, Terrence was the father of her unborn child, but the mission could not be allowed to fail because of one man.

One phone call was ended then. Another one made, this time to Auguste Vasilescu. The conversation was shorter this time. Arrangements made, and times discussed.

"Tomorrow night," Roisin pressed the end call button, and turned her attention back to her Uncles. "It's all arranged. The Order will deliver Terrence into your hands, tomorrow night."

"Why not just kill him on the spot?" Josef asked.

"And why tomorrow night, why not right now. Give me a chance to grab some weapons, we can finish this tonight." Mick followed on, his expression shifting determined.

"Do you really think we would deprive you of your revenge? And those are orders from Auguste," Roisin raised a placating hand, "He doesn't want either of you involved in the actual capture. There's too much scope for something to go wrong."

Mick opened his mouth to protest, felt Josef's hand slip into his, squeezing pointedly, and decided not to.

"Perhaps we'll spend the night away somewhere," Josef suggested calmly, hoping Mick would be in agreement, "The local cigány have invited us to their camp a number of times. We've never taken them up on their offer. I'm sure they won't mind if we drop in unannounced."

Roisin nodded her encouragement. "That's a great idea, Auguste suggested that himself. Well not the cigány specifically, just that the two of you should think about getting away. Go and relax somewhere, leave this to us to handle. We'll call you as soon as we have Terrence in custody."

Roisin looked at Mick expectantly, waiting for him to respond. Mick hesitated, teeth chewing distracted over his bottom lip. And then he was sighing a reluctant agreement.

"Yeah ok, I guess we've waited this long."

* * *

"I didn't know you could play?" Mick drew his arms around Josef's waist, as Josef leant back into Mick's embrace.

They had spent the previous evening with the local gypsies. Welcomed into the camp with offerings of blood, and celebratory wine drunk by the bottle full. Later they had slept in the snow, and spent the daylight hours exploring the shaded forest surrounds. Taking shelter in the ruins of an abandoned stone cottage when their exposure to the outdoors became too much.

Now they found themselves seated on old sofa, long since missing it's legs, on snow-covered ground near an open fire. Surrounded by the same raucous drinking and dancing as the night before.

Mick had been listening to Josef play the violin. He was good. Mick was surprised at just how good Josef was. And judging by the way the cigány had clapped, and danced, they had been impressed with Josef's performance as well.

"You pick up a few skills when you live to be almost five hundred." Josef smiled, and waved a dismissive hand. As if it were really no big deal.

Mick snorted a laugh, and shook his head. "And I suppose you're going to tell me you used to play with the Philharmonic Orchestra, or something."

"The Leipzig Gewundhaus actually," Josef remarked matter of fact, and then turned to Mick with an arched brow grin on his face. "I sat in with them a few times when a number of their string section were struck down by a sudden onset of unexplained anaemia. Mendelssohn was director then."

Mick had never heard of the Leipzig Gewundhaus. Mendellsohn; however, was familiar to him. He let out a suitably impressed whistle when he heard Josef mention the name.

"Wow, you played with Mendellsohn?" Mick bent his head towards Josef's for a kiss. "You never stop managing to impress me. You know that, don't you?"

"Likewise."

Seated across from them, Nadia watched the two male Vampires as they interacted. The tenderness they showed, the way they kept interlacing their fingers, the little smiles and gestures of affection they bestowed on one another. She turned to her father seated behind her, and exchanged a few words in their traditional language.

And then Nadia's father was getting to his feet, and hurrying off to collect something. He returned a few moments later carrying a bottle of brandy, wrapped in a brightly coloured silk scarf, and festooned with a necklace of gold coins.

Mick looked puzzled, and waited for Josef to translate when the old man presented the bottle to them, and said something in Romany.

Josef laughed, "They're having an impromptu Pliashka for us. It means they welcome a new wife into the family."

It was Mick's turn to laugh then. Dissolving into a fit of guffaws at the look of perfect indignation that appeared on Josef's face when the father stepped forward and placed the necklace around Josef's neck.

"Wait, what?" Josef looked dismayed, "I'm not the wife."

Any further indignation on Josef's part was cut short by a phone call. He turned to Mick when the call had ended. "It's show time."

* * *

"So what do you want to do to him first?" The hairs on the back of Mick's neck stood up. Charged with anticipation as they drove towards their destination. "We should probably go easy at first, we don't want to kill him too quickly."

"No, that is exactly what we want to do, Mick." Josef pulled the car over to the side of the road, and switched off the engine. "We're not going to torture Terrence, if that's what you think."

"Why not?" Mick shot Josef a puzzled look.

"Because we're better than he is," Josef's expression shifted determined, "and I want him to know that. Besides, Mick, this isn't you. You don't get off on inflicting pain on others. You never have. You're not me," Josef reached out a hand to brush the line of Mick's jaw, "that's probably one of the reasons I fell in love with you in the first place."

"But you tortured…"

"…That was different," Josef interjected, "that was fun. This is revenge."

"Yeah, ok." Mick furrowed his brow and nodded a reluctant agreement, as Josef gunned the engine of the car and drove off once again.

Auguste himself greeted them on arrival. "Didn't I promise you would have your revenge?" he said with a customary bow as he held the driver's side door open.

Josef couldn't remember Auguste making any such promise. Nevertheless he smiled, and nodded his gratitude.

And then they were being lead inside. Through a series of winding corridors that lead to a dungeon like room sealed off from the rest of the house.

"Would you like to get started," Auguste indicated a collection of swords, and axes hanging just outside the doorway, "or would you prefer some refreshment first?"

"Let's just get this over and done with." Josef turned to Mick, gesturing for him to select one of the axes, and then opened the door and stepped inside.

Terrence was seated in the middle of the room, chained to a steel bolted chair. He tracked Josef's movements across the room with cobra like precision. Peering out from underneath hooded eyelids.

"Hello Terrence." Josef pulled up one of the chairs situated in front of Terrence, and sat down. Mick stood behind. His hand rested on Josef's shoulder.

Terrence didn't respond. Josef had expected the boy to be full of bravado. Gloating over what he had done. Remorseless. It was then that Josef realised Auguste must have taken the liberty of removing Terrence's tongue. For a moment he felt a pang of bitter disappointment. He had hoped they could talk, if for no other reason than to put Terrence in his place.

Elbows rested on a crossed knee, and fingers tented in front of his face, Josef continued. "I don't suppose I need to tell you why we're here." Again Terrence responded with the same cold, hooded stare. Josef could practically feel the hatred burning towards him. "Don't worry, I'm not going to torture you. I won't stoop to your level. I'm better than you. I will always be better than you. So here's how I've decided to take revenge." Josef reached up and interlaced his fingers with Mick's; "I am going to live with this man for the rest of however long eternity is. And when you're nothing but dust, we'll still be here, and we'll still be together. Always. And there isn't a damn thing you can do it."

With that, Josef stood up and delivered an ice-cold command, "Kill him," and then turned around and strode triumphantly from the room without so much as a backward glance.

Mick stepped forward, and swung the axe. Neatly severing Terrence's head. He watched as Terrence's head went sailing through the air, and landed with a distinctive thud a short distance away. Saw the mouth opening and closing, the eyes still looking around, and then nothing. Save for the blood pumping from the stump of Terrence's neck, and the last faint heartbeats of a condemned man.

Mick waited for something to happen. He had half expected Terrence to dissolve in a puff of black smoke. He had seemed such a demonic presence in their lives for so long. And then Mick realised it was over. It felt almost anticlimactic in a way. Mick had been building this moment up in his mind for so many years, and now it had come to pass he couldn't help feeling disappointed. He had hoped for more excitement, and fan fare.

Mick took one last look at Terrence's now lifeless corpse, and then dropped the axe and went to look for Josef. He found him outside, waiting by the car.

"Is he...?"

"Yeah." Mick nodded, and walked over to where Josef stood. Drawing him into an embrace.

"Come on, let's go home." Josef disentangled himself from Mick's arms a few moments later. And then he was grinning like a Cheshire cat, the line of his mouth drawn into a wicked smile. "I'm going to fuck your brains out."

* * *

"Oh Jesus, fuck." Mick growled and dug his fingers into the laminate surface of the dressing table as Josef slammed into him from behind.

They had arrived home less than ten minutes ago. Josef proceeded to make good on his promise. Responding to Roisin's tentative, "Welcome home," with a hastily muttered, "Not now we're busy," as he dragged Mick into the bedroom. Within seconds Josef had the both of them stripped naked, and Mick bent face forward in the position he found himself now.

"Having fun?" Josef chuckled, as he leant over and whispered in Mick's ear.

Mick responded with a string of incoherent snarls, and went to reach underneath himself and grab hold of his cock.

"Don't," Josef snatched Mick's hand away, "I like making you come without touching yourself."

Josef scruffed the back of Mick's neck with his fangs, and pinned Mick's arms by the wrists out in front of him. Moments later Mick felt the sharp sting of Josef's fangs biting deeper into his flesh. Felt Josef's body tense on top of him. And then Mick could feel Josef coming inside him. A series of rapid-fire pulses that pushed Mick over the edge. Making him come hard enough to leave him feeling weak kneed and shaken.

"Fuck, that was good." Mick twisted his face to meet Josef's for a brief kiss. And then Josef was offering declarations of love, and withdrawing from Mick's space. Wrapping a silk robe around his naked form, and heading out of the room with a quick, "I'll be back in a minute," tossed over his shoulder.

Josef returned carrying a pair of scissors. He handed the scissors to Mick. "Cut it for me."

Mick raised a quizzical eyebrow, and didn't move.

"My hair, Mick. I'm sick of it this length. Cut it for me." Mick remained hesitant. Josef rolled his eyes, and huffed impatiently. "Fine, I'll do it myself."

Josef grabbed the scissors from Mick's hand, and went to work. Hacking at the shoulder length strands, until his hair was back to some semblance of how it had been before. "That's better."

Josef smiled, and took a moment to admire his handiwork in the mirror. And then he was drawing his arms around Mick's waist, and manoeuvring Mick over to the bed.

"And I know this place suited our purposes at one time, Mick" Josef remarked as he pushed Mick back onto the mattress, and then joined him, "but I really think we can find somewhere better to live than here. We'll start looking at available properties tomorrow."

Mick understood then. They had just made a fresh start.


	6. Chapter 5

"Josef," Mick glared at the image of his husband luxuriating on a couch in front of him, "do you think you could possibly get off your ass and help out?"

Josef stretched for a moment, and then reclined back with one arm tucked behind his head, "Didn't we hire people to do this?"

"Yes," Mick upended the couch, spilling Josef onto the ground, "and we're paying them by the hour, so shift it. Besides that you need to let them know where you want all this stuff."

Picking himself up Josef brushed the dirt from his suit, and then shot Mick a disdainful look. Making his way over to one of the packed boxes, he put on an extravagant display of drawing out a single lampshade to carry inside.

"Try not to exert yourself too much." Mick called after him, and then laughed and shook his head when he saw Josef wave a patronising hand over his shoulder.

A month had gone by since Terrence's demise. Mick couldn't remember the last time he had seen Josef so relaxed, and happy. It felt as if a black cloud had lifted. For his part, Mick's relationship with Roisin had finally been mended. Their differences set aside, and a proper family reunion celebrated at long last.

Now they were moving into Betliar Castle. Built in the 15th century, and extensively updated in the 18th, the Castle had once been named a Slovakian national cultural monument, until the ongoing cost of upkeep, and rising debt had forced it into liquidation. Josef had purchased the property from its previous owner less than a week ago, for the tidy sum of sixty five million euros.

Mick had baulked at the price, near choking on the glass of blood he was drinking at the time. Josef insisted they could afford it, and besides they deserved it. Mick couldn't argue with that. Roisin had moved in the day before, occupying a number of rooms on the second level. Josef and Mick were to take the top floor. Josef insisted on the view from the balcony. Despite a persuasive argument, Katherine and Pierre had both declined Josef's offer to join them. Choosing instead to purchase a sizable modern day property less than a kilometer away.

"Ok, put that over…no, wait." Josef furrowed his brow. He was trying to decide the best location for a particularly ornate coffee table he had purchased. Except for their freezer, all of the furniture was new. A fresh start meant 'a fresh start', Josef had insisted as he wrote out cheque after cheque for everything from lamps to a new kitchen setting.

"Shouldn't it go near the couch we'll be sitting on?" Mick walked into the room, ladened with heavy boxes.

"It won't look right." Josef continued his reverie of thought. A finger tapped against his lip in consideration.

Mick placed the boxes he was carrying on the ground, and began to unpack them. "Wouldn't that be the most practical place for it though?"

Josef rolled his eyes, preparing to try and explain to Mick, in the most patronising voice he could muster, the difference between practicality and aesthetics. And then he stopped, a wide grin spreading across his features. "Move those arm chairs to the other side of the room, and put the coffee table near the couch where we'll be sitting," he instructed, much to Mick's amusement.

Three hours later they were done. Settling payment with the removalists, they retired in front of the TV. Curled up together on the couch, intending to watch an old Hammer Horror film that was playing. Thinking it might be good for a laugh.

It soon became apparent they were both far more interested in making out. Quickly losing interest in the gothic melodrama unfolding on the set in front of them as they focused on the pursuit of more pleasurable activities.

"Happy?" Josef asked as he unbuttoned Mick's shirt, and ran a hand over Mick's exposed chest.

"Nope, not at all." A brief chuckle, followed by a teasing smile, and then Mick was stifling a groan, and arching up. Shuddering at the sensation of Josef's fingers flicking across his nipples. "Come here." Mick whispered a heated distraction, as he reached up to draw Josef closer. One hand snaked behind Josef's head, fisting a handful of hair. His lips pressed firm against Josef's own.

Josef melted into the kiss. A hand caressed along Mick's side, and then slipped underneath Mick's buttocks. Raising the level of Mick's hips as Josef began to grind against him.

Mick groaned and wrapped his lower legs around Josef's thighs, his own hands reaching down to grip Josef's arse, encouraging Josef's movements.

Moments later Mick was breaking away, and whispering a heated instruction in Josef's ear. "You need to fuck me, right now."

"Happy to oblige." Josef grinned, and then flipped Mick onto his stomach. Mick felt his jeans and underwear being roughly pulled down around his knees. Could hear the sound of Josef's fingers fumbling desperately with the belt buckle and buttons on his own.

A hurried coating of saliva, and then Josef's cock was pressed against Mick's hole, carefully penetrating his space. Mick groaned, and buried his face into the couch. Letting out soft snarls, and whimpers of approval as Josef began a short, steady rhythm of thrust and withdraw.

"Oh fuck, yeah." Mick dug his fingers into the leather beneath him, and then felt Josef's hand gripping his own. Josef's own fingers entwined tightly with Mick's.

More vocalisations of approval, another chorus of appreciative snarls and whimpers, Mick urged Josef on. His face turned towards Josef's, Josef's lips seeking heated contact with Mick's own. The pace shifted frantic.

"Oh Jesus, that's it, that's it." Mick whispered the words against Josef's mouth. Unneeded breaths coming in ragged gasps.

And then they were both falling over the edge, together. Hands still clutched tight, a kiss maintained. Fangs biting into lips, and tongue, the taste of blood flowed between them.

Josef had no intention of stopping there. Hauling Mick onto all fours when his first orgasm was spent. Penetration made easier this time; Josef thrust himself back into Mick's body, and fucked Mick hard. Josef's cock pounding Mick's arse, pressing repeatedly against Mick's prostate.

Beads of perspiration dampened Mick's brow, strands of hair were plastered to his forehead. Mick's back glistened with a sheen of sweat. Reaching down, Mick took hold of his own cock and began to jerk himself off. Matching the rhythm of Josef's thrusts. Josef's hands gripping Mick's hips now, creating leverage.

Seconds later Josef was growling with triumph as he felt Mick clench around him. Mick exploding into his own hand, semen pumped over his fingers. Fangs sunk deep into the flesh of his own wrist.

And Josef was right there with him, only a fraction behind the pace. Shuddering with completion as the orgasm ripped through him, and he ejaculated into Mick's arse. Josef's own fangs biting into the top of Mick's shoulder.

Reveling in the closeness of afterglow, they waited for the last residual pulsations to fade away, and then shifted down to the floor.

"We should have a house warming, throw a masked ball, what do you think?" Josef stretched out alongside Mick. One leg draped over Mick's thigh, his hand tracing nonchalant circles across Mick's chest.

"You mean like a Viennese thing?"

"Yeah."

"Might be nice." Mick replied, distracted by Josef's hand shifting lower.

"First things first," Josef shifted his body to lie on top of Mick. Josef's lips pressed against Mick's ear, his fingers mapping the contours of Mick's face. "I'm going to fuck you again, and then when I've finished doing that I'm going to fuck you some more. As a matter of fact, I'm going to fuck you so many times I doubt you'll even remember your own name…"

The tone of Josef's voice shifted to dark seduction.

"…I want to make you scream."

_"Oh fuck, yeah_"

* * *

"Uncle Mick," Roisin watched the small group of Vampires in front of her performing what looked like an intricate series of steps, and bows, "Why aren't you dancing with Uncle Josef?"

Mick laughed, and shook his head. "Roisin, I think the Brigadoon is a bit before my time."

"Rigaudon, Uncle Mick," Roisin corrected with a knowledgeable smile, "The dance is called a Rigadoun. A French Baroque dance with a lively duple metre."

"How do you know that?" Mick furrowed his brow, and looked curiously impressed with Roisin's display of knowledge.

Roisin shrugged. "They taught us about it when I was enrolled at the School of Knowledge."

"The only dance from that era that Josef ever taught me was the Minuet."

"The Minuet a Quatre, or de la Reine?" Roisin asked.

Mick hesitated for a moment, thumb pressed against his lips in contemplation. "I'm not sure, the earlier one, I think?"

Roisin smiled, and nodded her understanding. "That would be the Minuet a Quatre."

And then the music had stopped, and Josef was sauntering back towards them. He greeted Mick with a perfectly executed bow, and then offered the same to Roisin.

Mick laughed, clumsily attempting to return Josef's bow, and then took a moment to admire the purple and silver brocade finery Josef had chosen to attire himself in for the evening. The epitome of seventeenth century high society fashion, complete with powdered wig. His face partly obscured by a traditional Colombina Baroque pewter mask.

For his own part, Mick was dressed in more modern attire. A well cut black tuxedo, with simple black velvet cats eye mask. Mick wrapped his arms around Josef's waist, and drew him close. Lifting the mask from Josef's face he pressed his lips against Josef's, and placed an affectionate kiss.

Any further plans of intimacy were halted by the sound of Auguste Vasilescu's voice calling for the next dance.

"What are we dancing now?" Roisin asked, as she donned the bracelets of silver bells that had been handed out, and watched her Uncles do the same.

"I have absolutely no idea." Mick laughed.

"It's called the Moresca," Josef replied. "Just follow me. This is way before my time, but I've met enough older Vamps over the years to be taught the steps. Roisin, you need to join the women in the center. Watch what they do, and try and keep up."

The merry strains of the traditional sound of folk pipes and strings filled the air, accompanied by the sounds of bells being shaken in time to the music. Mick and Roisin watched, and tried to copy the hand movements, and steps as best they could.

And then the pace of the music increased, until the two concentric groups of dancers were linking arms and circling faster, and faster. Laughing as they tried to keep up with the increasingly frenetic rhythm.

"Ok," Roisin laughed, trying to catch her breath when the dance had come to an end, "I think that's me done for the evening."

"Do you need to sit down?" Josef placed a concerned hand on the small of his niece's back. Resting another on Roisin's shoulder to steady her if need be.

"Uncle Josef," Roisin admonished her Uncle good naturedly, "I'm pregnant, not incapacitated."

"Seosamh Ó Duibhir." A voice called out to Josef from behind then, stopping Josef in his tracks. It had been centuries since he had heard anyone use the Gaelic pronunciation of his mortal name. He turned around slowly, his face etched with suspicion.

His expression soon changed. "Dónal Ó Glaisne," Josef exclaimed with astonishment, and then drew the man standing in front of him into a joyous embrace.

A conversation in rapid fire Gaelic ensued. Each spoke over the top of the other, eager with questions, and shared anecdotes of their respective lives.

Mick shifted to stand alongside Josef. Clearing his throat, he waited to be introduced.

"I'm sorry," Josef reverted to English then, "Mick doesn't speak the language, he's American by birth. Turned in the 1950's."

"You turned him?" Dónal asked with the raise of a quizzical eyebrow.

"No, not initially. His ex wife Coraline Duvall, was Mick's sire. I re-turned him at a later date, after…"

"…He took the so called 'Mortal Cure'?"

"Precisely." Josef laughed and then drew an arm around Mick's waist. "Dónal, I'd like you to meet my husband, Mick St John. Mick, this is a very old friend of mine, Dónal Ó Glaisne. We grew up together. He was the son of the local village Blacksmith. I had no idea he had been turned."

"Well it was either that, or die from the plague. There was another outbreak about ten years after we last heard word of you. Thankfully a Vampire happened to be passing through, and was able to offer me the hope of a successful cure. I suppose as a man of near forty I'd already lived a long life in those days, but I felt adamant there were a few more years left in me. And here I am."  
Dónal chortled, and made an encompassing hand gesture. And then he was extending his hand towards Mick, and exchanging pleasantries. "So how long have you and Josef been wed?"

"Almost thirty years," Mick replied with an unabashed smile, "but we've been together for eighty."

"So you finally made an honest man out of him." Dónal raised a teasing eyebrow, and spoke with the gentle lilt of an Irish accent.

Mick snorted a laugh, "I don't know about that. Are you…?"

"Married? Yes, going on close to two centuries now. My wife is around here somewhere. I'll have to see if I can find her. I've just had an idea."

Dónal offered Mick a conspiratorial wink, and then disappeared. He returned, after exchanging a few quick words with Auguste, with a rather comely looking auburn haired female Vampire by his side.

The floor was cleared, the band striking up a traditional Irish Folk melody. Dónal beckoned Josef into the middle of the dance floor.

Josef affected a look of faux reluctance, and then grinned, and called out to Katherine across the other side of the room.

"I assume you know how to dance a Rince Fada?" Josef asked when Katherine had joined then.

"I'm Irish," Katherine rolled her eyes, and pretended to huff with indignation, "Of course I do."

Mick and Roisin stood on the sidelines and watched, and clapped along with the rest of the guests gathered round. As the four in the middle performed a complicated series of steps, and taps, interspersed with high kicks and circular reels.

And then the music was coming to a finish, and they were rejoining the others. Josef pretended to catch his breath, "It has been centuries since I've danced like that."

"Certainly brings back memories of the Village square, and one too many pints of mead." Dónal laughed.

"Wait," Katherine's surprise was evident, "the two of you know each other?"

Josef quickly recounted the story of how he knew Dónal Ó Glaisne, and then asked. "Why, do you know him too?"

"He's a friend of Pierre's." Katherine laughed, and shook her head. Commenting that it was indeed a small world. "Josef is my sire." Katherine offered by way of explanation then.

"Ah, really," Dónal raised an eyebrow, "then I take it this delightful affair is yours then, Josef O'Dwyer?"

"It's Kostan now, I haven't used the name O'Dwyer for a long time." Josef corrected. And then he was excusing himself, saying something about having spied a beverage he was more than keen to partake of.

"Where's Uncle Josef off to?" Roisin asked, as she watched after her Uncle's retreating form.

"I have a feeling he's interested in that Freshie over there." Mick pointed to an attractive brunette leaning against the wall on the far side of the room, "She's AB negative."

"His favourite flavour," Roisin nodded her understanding, and then added with a teasing smile, "Apart from you of course, Uncle Mick."

"Of course." Mick grinned, and pretended to puff his chest out with arrogant pride. And then he was taking Roisin by the hand, and leading her out onto the dance floor. "I assume they taught you how to dance a basic Foxtrot when you were at school."

"Yes, and the Quickstep as well."

"What about the Jitterbug?"

"We didn't quite get that far, Uncle Mick." Roisin laughed as she followed her Uncle's lead.

"I like your costume by the way." Mick complimented Roisin's choice of outfit for the evening.

"Thanks, it's a replica of the red dress Olivia Hussey wore in Franco Zeffirelli's production of Romeo and Juliet."

Having drunk his fill of AB negative tapped fresh from the vein, Josef stood back and watched the scene in front of him with a sense of interest, and delight. So far the evening had been an outstanding success.

Half an hour later he began to feel decidedly different, strange. He couldn't quite put his finger on it. His muscles seemed tense, wound tight like a coiled spring. A sensation of pins and needles ran across his skin, like tiny metal fingers pricking his flesh. His jaw clenched. He felt filled with an excess of energy, bordering on manic.

Surroundings seemed to change. Objects, and faces looked distorted. Sounds were amplified, even beyond the heightened range of a Vampire's hearing. The walls appeared to breathe with a life of their own.

A female figure, dressed in a simple floor length red beaded dress, and feathered mask, passed by. On impulse Josef reached out and grabbed her around the waist, drawing her near. It had been more decades than he could remember since he had felt the touch of a woman's lips against his own. The figure tasted soft, and feminine. The curves of her body seemed to mold to his hands.

And then the figure was shoving him away. Staring at him with wide-eyed astonishment. "Josef, what the hell are you doing?"

"Katherine." Realisation dawned on Josef then, "Oh shit, I'm sorry, I didn't know…"

Suddenly Josef broke off and started to laugh uproariously.

"Are you…?" Katherine had been about to ask if Josef was feeling okay. And then she caught a glimpse of his eyes. Josef's pupils were blown, his eyes devoid of any colour. Two black saucers set in the midst of a Cheshire cat grin plastered across his features. "Oh great." Katherine raised her eyes skyward, and shook her head. "You, wait here. I'm going to find Mick."

Katherine hurried through the throng of guests, over to where Mick stood conversing with her husband, and Dónal. A quick word, exclamations of frustration and disbelief, and then Mick was scanning the room for sight of the Freshie Josef had drunk from.

"Right," Mick instructed Katherine, having spied Josef's beverage looking to now be in much the same state as Josef had been described to him, "find Auguste, and have him throw that Vamp, and Miss Woodstock over there the hell out of our house. I'll go look after Josef."

By the time Mick had finished speaking with Katherine, and making his apologies to Pierre, and Dónal, Josef was nowhere to be seen. Mick eventually tracked him to one of the rooms on the third floor.

Josef was speaking to someone on the phone, arguing in Latin, "But I have money."

Mick snatched the receiver from Josef's hand, and proceeded to carry on a brief conversation with a Monsignor Kelly. Yes he was well aware the Vatican library was not for sale. No they certainly wouldn't be bothering the Vatican again with such outlandish requests.

"Come on, Major Tom." Mick joked as he pulled Josef to his feet, and began to lead him outside, "I think you need some fresh air."

Mick knew fresh air wasn't going to make a difference to Josef's current condition, but he figured it was better than risking any more phone calls to god knows where. Or damage to their house if Josef decided to engage in a spot of impromptu redecorating.

"The guests are leaving now," Roisin joined her Uncle outside an hour later. "It's ok, Katherine and Pierre are seeing them off. How is he?"

"Currently orbiting somewhere off Jupiter." Mick watched his husband seated cross-legged on the grass in front of them, looking at the garden surrounds with rapt fascination. They'd just finished having an in depth conversation on the colour green.

"How long is he going to be like that?" Roisin asked as she took a seat next to Mick.

"Depends," Mick shrugged, "If it's LSD, around twelve to sixteen hours. If it's Bromo-DMA, around eighteen to twenty four."

"How do you know about this stuff?" Roisin raised a quizzical eyebrow at her Uncle.

"Roisin," Mick laughed and shook his head, "I did live through the Sixties you know. At least this time I can be certain he's going to come out of it."

Mick's expression fell serious then. His brow furrowed with memories of not so happy times. Roisin placed a comforting hand on her Uncle's arm. "You know, one day I hope I find a love as strong, and devoted as what the two of you have."

Mick smiled, and didn't say anything. And then Roisin was saying her goodnights, and taking her leave. Heading off to bed just as Josef clambered onto Mick's lap, and curled up happily in his embrace.

* * *

The following evening Josef sat at the kitchen table, downing glass after glass of blood poured from a bottle close at hand.

"Evening. How are you feeling?"" Mick's greeting bordered a little too on the cheerful side for the mood Josef was in.

"I'll live." Josef poured himself another glass of crimson refreshment. "I need to take another shower," he muttered under his breath then, "I feel like I've got dirt crawling on my skin."

"Probably the toxins from the drug seeping out of your pores." Mick called after him, as Josef made his way to the bathroom.

Josef removed his robe, and adjusted the shower temperature to a comfortable level. He stood under the spray, and braced his hands on the tiles in front of him. Eyes closed as he let the flow of water wash over him.

And then Mick was stepping into the shower with him. Bare foot, but still clothed. "You need me to scrub your back?"

Mick's tone was a clear invitation. Josef shrugged, and handed Mick the flannel and soap. "Don't forget to do my neck as well."

"Yes Sir," Mick grinned, and tried to sound steadfast, "would Sir be requiring anything else."

Josef rolled his eyes, and admonished Mick's sense of humour.

"You are in a bad mood, aren't you?" Mick snorted a brief laugh, and went to work massaging the soaped cloth over Josef's skin. And then he was turning Josef around to face him, and sinking to his knees. His face level with Josef's crotch, his hand reaching out to grip Josef's erection. Mouth wrapped around the head of Josef's cock, lips and tongue working their way along the shaft.

"Jesus," Josef drew in a sharp breath, and rocked back and forth on his heels to heighten the sensation.

Reaching a hand down to grip the back of Mick's head, Josef surveyed the scene in front of him. Mick's hair was soaking wet, plastered in ringlets to his scalp and forehead. Rivulets of water ran down his face, wetting his cheeks, and pouring over his lips and chin. Mick's silk shirt, and denim jeans clung saturated to his body, outlining flesh and muscle like a second skin.

Josef reached both hands down then, and took hold of Mick's face, pulling Mick to his feet. And then he was pressing Mick back against the reinforced glass of the sliding door of the cubicle. His lips seeking urgent contact with Mick's own.

"Christ I want to fuck you so badly right now." Josef panted the words hot against Mick's throat, grinding his erection against Mick's denim covered thigh.

With a Vampire's strength, Josef rented Mick's jeans and underwear in two, and then tore Mick's shirt from his body.

"Hey, those clothes were practically new." Mick protested.

"I'll buy you some more. Get on your hands and knees."

Mick did as he was told, trembling with anticipation as Josef positioned himself behind, and hurriedly slicked his length with an application of make shift lubricant.

And then Mick was biting down on his lower lip hard enough to draw blood, and trying not to cry out as Josef slammed into him.

In her room on the floor below, Roisin was listening to a collection of vintage dance music. The beat drifting up towards them Josef gripped Mick's hips either side, and began matching time with the pulsating rhythm. Head thrown back, and eyes squeezed shut. Mouth hung open, growling with ecstasy.

Mick lowered his chest and shoulders, and rested his forearms flat to the floor. Changing the angle of penetration, allowing Josef to nail his prostate with every stroke. Senses heightened, electricity flowing throughout his body. Mick began driving himself back hard onto Josef's erection. Feeling his impending orgasm coiling up from the base of his spine, ready to explode.

Mick's vocalisations became increasingly inhuman. And then he was giving a single ear shattering cry of release, and biting into the flesh of his own wrist. Convulsing with pleasure, Mick almost swore he could see stars.

Reaching a hand underneath Mick's body to take hold of his still erect cock, Josef began to stroke Mick then. Pumping him from base to tip, continuing to fuck him at the same time, raw, and abandoned. Bringing Mick over the edge for a second, and then a third time.

And then Josef gave one final thrust. Muscles trembling, suspended on a knife's edge. And the orgasm tore through his body hard enough to leave him dizzy in its wake. Fangs sunk deep into the back of Mick's neck, his semen flooding Mick's passage.

"So when are we inviting that Freshie back round?" Mick laughed when they were finally both spent. Turning over to lie on his back, after Josef had withdrawn. One arm tucked behind his head, the other cradling Josef next to him.

Josef draped a leg over Mick's thigh, his head rested on Mick's chest, "What do you mean?"

"Well if that's what happens when you're coming down from a trip, I'll go out and order us an entire harem of acid soaked Freshies."

"Go right ahead," Josef deadpanned, "just make sure they drill enough air holes in the delivery crates."

"Very funny," Mick snorted another quick laugh, and then stood up. Still feeling slightly weak kneed, residual tremors running through him. "I should go see what Roisin wants for dinner."

Taking a moment to clean up, and wrap a robe around his naked form, Mick made his way downstairs to the second floor of their new home, and knocked on Roisin's bedroom door.

"Are you ok?" Mick's expression shifted to immediate concern when Roisin answered. Her eyes were red, and puffy. Tears ran either side of her cheeks. Mick held out a hand to steady her.

"Uncle Mick," Roisin chuckled, and shook her head. "I'm fine, really." A mischievous grin spread across Roisin's features as she invited her Uncle in, and showed him the source of her apparent tears. Freshly sliced onions. "I'm having dinner with the head of the Legion, and his family this evening. I'm supposed to be Terrence's poor grieving widow, remember?"

"Ah," Mick nodded his understanding, and gave a conspiratorial wink, "my condolences to you."

And then Roisin threw herself into Mick's arms, pretending to choke back her sobs. "I know it had to be done. But it still doesn't make it any easier. Damn it I loved him. Now my unborn child has to grow up never knowing her father except through a few precious photographs. It's just not fair. It's all their fault, I hate them."

When Roisin had finished she stepped back, grinning. It was a performance worthy of an academy award. Mick applauded, and then laughed when Roisin executed a mock extravagant bow, complete with a flourishing of her hand.

"I'd better finish getting ready," Roisin excused herself then, and gave her Uncle a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Sure," Mick smiled, and nodded his understanding. "Just take care of yourself tonight, ok?"

Roisin couldn't help but note the concern in Mick's voice.

"I will Uncle Mick, don't worry."

* * *

"Are you sure you've had enough to eat?" The man seated across the table from Roisin asked.

"Plenty," Roisin forced a well-rehearsed smile, "couldn't fit another thing in."

"But you've hardly touched your dinner."

"I guess I just don't have much of an appetite." Roisin slumped her shoulders, and lowered her eyes, trying to give the illusion she was weighed down with grief.

"I'm sorry." Jonathon Whitley looked at Roisin with fatherly concern. "I know he meant a lot to you. You showed great loyalty, and fortitude of character when you asked for his execution. I can't imagine…"

"…It was for the greater good." Roisin cut Jonathon off, and pretended to wave a dismissive hand. Another forced smile offered in her host's direction. She changed the subject then. "So what's our next move?"

"Your next move," Jonathon said with a pointed smile, "is to look after yourself, and that baby you've got growing inside you. Consider yourself on vacation."

Roisin affected a crestfallen look, "But what about the campaign? We can't stop now. I have to…"

"…Who said anything about stopping." Jonathon chuckled behind the glass of wine he had raised to his lips. "We do have other areas we can work in, that don't involve endangering a mother to be and her unborn child."

Roisin's smile was genuine then. As much as she hated the man who had looked after as his own since she was sixteen years old, she was still occasionally touched by the tenderness, and care he directed towards her.

She decided to take a calculated risk then.

"Jonathon." Roisin tilted her head, and looked as if she were weighing up a decision, "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure." Jonathon Whitley shrugged, and then smiled for Roisin to continue.

"Why do you hate Josef Kostan so much?"

Jonathon Whitley hesitated then, and drew a steadying breath, "Because Sarah Whitley was my Great Great Grandfather's daughter." The name drew a complete blank from Roisin. It was clear Jonathon had expected more of a reaction than what he was getting. He looked genuinely puzzled. "You don't know about any of this, do you? About what your Uncle did to Sarah Whitley?"

"No." Roisin shook her head. Curiosity etched on her features. "I knew about Beth, but I've never heard either one of my Uncles mention the name Sarah Whitley. What happened to her?"

"Ask your Uncle. See what he has to say for himself."

Jonathon Whitley radiated distaste. The evening slowly drew to a close. Roisin reassuring Jonathon that she could see herself out, offering the appearance of responding in kind to his affectionate goodbyes.

And then she was heading home. Back to Bretliar Castle, with a million questions racing through her mind.


	7. Chapter 6

"Uncle Josef," Roisin sat cross-legged on the floor of living room. The latest edition of Modern Parenting magazine rested on a belly just starting to burgeon with the sign of new life. 'Can I ask you something?"

"Sure." Josef reached for the remote, and muted the volume on the TV. Mick was out fetching supplies. Josef had been passing the time watching a variety of programs he wasn't all that interested in. A change in pace, in the form of a conversation, was almost a welcome relief at that point.

"Who was Sarah Whitley?"

Josef felt his relief rapidly dissipate. He hadn't heard Sarah's name spoken in more than a decade. Mick had been taking care of that for him. Josef took a moment to regain his bearings, before he answered. Hoping the quaver in his voice wasn't too noticeable. "She was an old flame of mine. Why do you ask?"

"Jonathon Whitley is the head of the Legion." Roisin paused to let her words sink in.

"Jonathon Whitley?" The name drew a blank. Josef wracked his brain, trying to think of how this Jonathon Whitley fit in with the John Whitley he knew, a distant cousin perhaps?

"John Whitley was Jonathon's Great, Great Grandfather." Roisin furrowed her brow for a moment, running through a quick check of familial relationships. "And that makes Sarah Whitley his Great Great Aunt."

"Great Aunt, Roisin." Josef corrected her quietly, any semblance of colour drained from his face.

Roisin hurried to fetch a drink for her Uncle. Pouring a triple measure of Scotch into a tumbler, which she pressed into Josef's hand. "Here, drink this. You look like you could use it."

"I'll take a double." Josef managed to raise a weak laugh.

"I've already made it a triple."

Roisin took a seat next to her Uncle, and watched as he knocked back the contents of his drink in one swift gulp.

"I didn't even know Sarah had any brothers or sisters." Josef muttered to himself, as he toyed with the now empty vessel he was holding.

Roisin gently pried the glass from Josef's hand, and placed it on the small table next to the lounge. Waiting until she was sure her Uncle had his bearings, she repeated her question.

"Uncle Josef, who was Sarah Whitley."

Slowly, in fits, and starts, Josef began to talk. An hour later he had finished recanting the details of his life with Sarah; brief as it had been.

"Does Uncle Mick know about all this?" Roisin placed a hand on Josef's arm, and tried to keep her tone of voice as matter of fact as she could. If this was a struggle for her to comprehend, she could only imagine how hard it must have been for her Uncle to open up old wounds the way he just had.

"Yes, Mick knows." Josef reached for the decanter of Scotch Roisin had placed in front of him. "Mick's been handling the situation on my behalf for the past few years. Making sure the bills for her care are kept up to date, checking to if the care she's receiving is still adequate, that sort of thing."

Josef tried to wave a dismissive hand. As if his ongoing commitment to Sarah, more than a hundred years after her condition had first become apparent, was really no big deal.

Roisin thought otherwise. She was finding it hard to hide her shock, and confusion. "She's still alive?"

"Mm-hmm." Josef nodded, and poured himself another drink. "She's in an apartment in New York. I have a team of trusted medical professionals who look after her around the clock, they're aware of her condition. That she's a comatose Vampire, I mean."

"But don't they ever…?"

Roisin had been about to ask how these so called medical professionals weren't ever tempted to reveal the existence of Sarah, and her kind, or to conduct any scientific experiments for that matter. Josef cut her off, "Let's just say I pay them well enough, and they are aware of the consequences otherwise."

Roisin didn't bother to comment on her Uncle's apparent ruthlessness in dealing with any transgressions by those under his employment. She knew enough of that already. Instead she chose to concentrate on other matters, her surprise at the situation still apparent. "You must have really loved her."

"Don't sound so shocked," Josef admonished his niece with a genuine laugh, "Mick and I do both have pasts you know. Mick had Beth, and Coraline, I had Sarah."

Josef was trying to sound matter of fact, but the way his voice kept raising an octave, and the tremor in his hands, said otherwise.

"I know." Roisin responded with a sheepish laugh, feeling at least some of her Uncle's tension disappear in the light hearted moment. And then the conversation was shifted serious again, Roisin tentatively asking, "Did you love Sarah as much as you love Uncle Mick?"

"I've never loved anyone as much I love your Uncle Mick, Roisin," Josef looked thoughtful for a moment, "but yes, Sarah ran a pretty close second. Until I fell in love with Mick, she was the love of my life. Actually even after I fell in love with Mick, Sarah was still the love of my life. It took me a few years to actually get anywhere with your Uncle. It was nowhere near as difficult with Sarah."

"From what I heard, Uncle Josef," Roisin pretended to raise a challenging eyebrow, "you weren't even game enough to try with Uncle Mick back then."

"True," Josef snorted a laugh of admittance, "I did try and send out a few subtle hints though. I sort of hoped Mick would pick on at least one of them eventually."

"Uncle Mick, pick up on subtle hints?" Roisin burst into laughter, "the same Uncle Mick that occasionally needs to be smacked upside the head with a clue by four before he gets anything?"

"Yeah, that's the one." Josef joined Roisin's amusement, adding an extra note of sarcasm. "So you think I should have gone with the giant flashing neon sign back then after all?"

"Probably." Roisin poured a drink for herself then. Glowering when her Uncle snatched it away from her, and drank the contents himself.

"Not in your condition, Roisin."

They each fell into an extended silence. Knowing the previous laughter had been little more than a cover up release for the stress of the past needing to be revisited. Roisin had the distinct impression her Uncle hardly ever spoke about the past, except to reminisce about times spent with Mick. She wanted to ask whether or not Josef having the patience of a Saint when it had come to Mick's own complicated relationship with Beth, had anything to do with his experience with Sarah. Figured it probably did, and thought the better of it.

And then Josef broke the stillness in the room, choosing to take the conversation at hand in a slightly different direction.

"So if this 'Jonathon Whitley' is a relation of Sarah's, are you trying to tell me that everything we've been through, all that crap the Legion has thrown at us over the past twenty odd years, has all been out of one man's desire for revenge?"

In that a moment Josef thought he had found a new level of respect for Auguste Vasilescu. The Grand Chancellor might have been an arrogant, condescending son of a bitch, but at least he understood where his true responsibilities lay.

"That's the way it seems, pretty much." Roisin's agreement with Josef's assessment of the situation, was clear in her expression. Yes, she too thought it was pathetic, in an egomaniacal kind of way.

The discussion drew to a close then. Josef decided to end things on a flippant note. "Well, at least this beat watching the crap they were trying to pass off as entertaining Television."

And then he was muttering something about the sound of a car pulling into the driveway, and taking his leave.

Mick returned home to find two suitcases; already half packed, laid out on the bed.

"Are we going somewhere? Spur of the moment vacation, is that it?" Mick leant against the frame of the doorway, and raised a bemused eyebrow as Josef busied himself with packing.

"Not exactly." Josef threw the last of what he thought they would need into the cases, and then zipped them up. "We're heading to New York. I need to see Sarah."

* * *

Josef watched as Mick's face ran a gamut of emotion, everything from shock, and surprise, to outright panic, and extreme concern.

_Sarah. Something had happened to Sarah. Sarah had died, or woken up, or…_

"No. No, it's nothing like that," Mick heard Josef's voice, snap toned reassuring, felt Josef's hands touching his face, grounding him. Josef had been able to read the thoughts racing through Mick's mind. "Sarah's fine, everything in New York is fine…"

"Then why…?

"…I'll explain on the way to the airport."

There had been a two-hour wait while the Plane refuelled for take off. The pilot was apologetic, explaining as contritely as possible that if only Mr Kostan had given them more notice. They weren't expecting to be on standby.

Josef had waved him off with a smile, and a nod, and an extra fifty dollars stuffed into the man's breast pocket.

"I'm in a generous mood." Josef had offered by way of explanation, when really all he wanted was for the man to shut up. Josef had other, more pressing matters to attend to than the ins and outs of how his private Jet operated.

The time spent waiting had been used to bring Mick up to speed on the present situation.

"Wow." Mick couldn't think of anything other way to respond.

"You've said that five times already, Mick." They were in the air by then.

"I know, it's just," Mick gestured his disbelief, "The head of the Legion is a relative of Sarah's? Damn."

"Well at least you didn't say 'wow' that time." Josef muttered. Not quite clear enough for Mick to pick out the words properly.

"Sorry, what?" Mick waited for Josef to repeat what he had said.

"Nothing. It doesn't matter." A quick smile, and a dismissive hand wave, and then Josef interlaced Mick's fingers with his. Holding tight. "This might be the one chance we have to avoid all out war. If I can just prove to this Jonathon Whitley character that Sarah is still alive. I didn't kill her as he seems to think…"

"…I thought you wanted to go to war?" Mick interjected, brow furrowed in confusion. "Weren't you the one that bought the issue up in the first place?"

"Fourteen years ago, Mick," Josef raised a pointed eyebrow, "before I went temporarily insane. You don't think I might have had a chance to rethink the situation since then?"

"Yeah, ok, I know that, but…"

"…But what? We don't go to war, and all our efforts will have been in vain, is that it?" Josef scrubbed a frustrated hand over his face. "Look, Terrence is dead, Roisin, and Katherine are back, we're still together, everything's fine again now. Auguste can worry about the Vampire Nation, all I care about is keeping my family out of harms way."

"Ok," Mick circled a placating thumb in the centre of Josef's palm, and then drew an arm around Josef's shoulders. "Ok. Josef, I get it."

"I'm sorry," Josef allowed himself to be pulled into an embrace. Mick's lips pressed against his temple. "I didn't mean…I'm just…"

"Yeah, I know." Mick's forehead rested against Josef's, mouths pressed together this time. Mick didn't need to hear the rest. Josef hadn't laid eyes on Sarah in almost seventy-five years. Nervous seemed like an understatement.

They spent the rest of the trip, including the short Taxi ride from the Airport to the apartment where Sarah lay, in relative silence. The quiet interrupted every so often with more words, and gestures of reassurance. Given and received gratefully in turn.

Nail polish. The first thing Josef noticed was Sarah's nail polish. It was the wrong colour. There were three colours approved for use, and Max Factor Red Wine number 88 was not one of them.

Josef made his discord known. The technician in charge of Sarah's daily cosmetic routine drew breath to protest, and then decided the better of it. The look Josef was giving her could have frozen hell solid.

"I'm sorry, sir," the Technician leapt into action, "I'll fix it straight away. We weren't expecting you."

"So everyone keeps telling me."

The nail polish dilemma apparently sorted, Josef gestured for Mick to remove the digital camera he was holding from its case. One picture after another was taken, in varieties of light, and shade, all from different angles. Josef hadn't wanted to do the task himself, reasoning that his hands would probably shake too much to get a clear enough image. Even now Mick couldn't help but notice the way Josef avoided looking at Sarah's face. His focus seemingly transfixed on Sarah's hands, and then down to a spot on the bed covers. Areas that felt safe, free from the ramifications of unwanted emotions.

Josef left the room before Mick had finished.

"Did you get enough?" Josef was standing at the window of their Hotel room, staring out over the city expanse below.

"I think so." Mick approached from behind, and drew his arms around Josef's waist. Chin rested on Josef's shoulder, fingers interlaced with his. "All time stamped, and dated. Plus digital film footage."

"Good." Josef nodded a distracted approval, and turned to face Mick. Another embrace embarked upon, closer this time. Eyes closed, swaying to the beat of an imaginary tune. "Come here."

Mick felt Josef's lips brush against his. Lightly, the barest of pressure applied. Mick resisted the urge to deepen the kiss. He wanted to let Josef set the pace, had a feeling it's what Josef needed.

More kisses followed, soft at first, and then progressing. Harder. Josef's hands followed the same pattern. Starting light, caressing tentatively. Languid. And then more assured, a sense of urgency building gradual.

And Mick just went with it. Giving Josef control. Allowing Josef to move, and manipulate him however he wanted.

"Strip." Josef issued a heated command. Mick groaned at the temporary loss of contact as they both stepped back to remove unwanted layers. Clothes dropped to the floor in jumbled piles. And then they were coming back together in a frantic rush. Mouth on mouth, bodies pressed together. Holding tight.

"Where…"

"…Over on the bed." Mick found himself staggering backwards then. Half shoved, half dragged across the room, as Josef manoeuvred them towards their target. "You're topping."

Mick hadn't expected that. For a moment he was at a loss, unsure if Josef expected him to switch gears. Take the dominant role.

Josef answered Mick's question with a hand placed in the centre of Mick's chest. Pushing Mick back on to the mattress below. Still taking control, still leading as he hurriedly spat into his hand, and coated Mick's length with saliva.

And then Mick was losing himself in a sensation of heat, and tightness. Eyes closed, drifting with the feeling. Listening to Josef issue another heated command. Telling him to sit up. He wanted Mick close. Needed the proximity of Mick's body to his.

Legs wrapped around Mick's waist, Josef began to move. Using his heels dug into the space behind for leverage. Riding Mick slowly at first, and then harder. Faster.

"Stay with me." Josef urged Mick to open his eyes, and remain focused in the present.

"Always."

Foreheads rested together, and lips parted, drawing synchronized breath, Mick locked gazes with Josef. The pace shifting frantic as they focused in on one another.

And then Josef was urging Mick to take over. Handing over control as he clung to Mick's neck, and allowed Mick to fuck him hanging suspended in mid air. Mick kneeling up; resting back on his haunches now, both hands under Josef's arse, lifting him off the bed. Josef's legs locked around Mick's waist.

"Oh Jesus, fuck. That's it, " More encouragement, half swallowed by Mick's lips pressed against his. Josef's vocalisations grew louder, his language rougher.

Mick wondered if perhaps half the hotel couldn't hear them at that moment. Wondered, and decided he couldn't care less. Josef was coming apart in his arms. Fangs sunk deep into the side of Mick's neck. Shuddering with the strength of the orgasm that tore through him.

And Mick was right there with him, falling into his own protracted release.

" Shit, that was…" Mick didn't have a chance to finish. Josef was pushing Mick back, and riding him to completion once more.

"From now, until we fly home tomorrow," Josef fisted his cock, bringing himself over the edge for a second time as he felt Mick's fangs slicing into the flesh of his wrist, "I don't want to feel. I don't want to experience. I don't want to think about anything but you. For all I care, the world can disappear."

* * *

"Hey," Mick felt Josef stir in his arms, "you're awake. You ok?"

"Yeah." Josef mumbled a single word reply, and sat up, blinking away layers of sleep. "What time is it?"

Mick glanced at the clock next to the bed, and then reached for Josef, drawing him back into his arms. "Just after ten. When were you thinking of heading back?"

They'd fallen asleep around four am, replete with sweat, and sticky with fluid. Not bothering with the standard Vampire trick of sleeping covered in bags of ice when a freezer was unavailable. No matter, a few extra bags of blood would fix that.

"Soon." Another monosyllabic reply, Josef rested his head on Mick's shoulder. Enjoying a few moments of shared closeness, letting his eyes fall shut to the sensation of Mick's hand absentmindedly stroking the back of his neck. And then he was breaking away from the embrace, and sitting up, clambering off the bed to start getting dressed this time. "I want to spend some time with Sarah first, alone."

"I thought…?" Mick stopped himself. Now was not the time to be questioning any decision Josef made. "I'll pack, and meet you at the airport."

"You sure you're ok to handle the luggage by yourself?" Josef finished doing up the last of his shirt buttons, and then pulled on his jacket.

Mick shot Josef a sideways glance, trying in vain to suppress the bubble of laughter that threatened to burst forth when he saw the completely earnest look on Josef's face. "Yeah, I think I'll manage."

"Good." Josef leant down to place a brief kiss. "I won't be long."

"Mr Kostan?" The beauty technician, whose name Josef had finally been told was Ella, looked up from placing the finishing touches on Sarah's makeup, her voice and expression hesitant. "I'm just about to set Miss Whitley's hair. Would you like to help me?"

"No, I…" Josef started to shake his head, and then changed his mind. "What do you want to me to do?"

"Plug those hot rollers in, and then come back here and help me brush some of the knots out of Miss Whitley's hair." Ella watched as Josef made his way over to a nearby socket in the wall, and then returned to accept the hairbrush from her outstretched hand. "The man who was with you yesterday, is he your…?"

"My partner? Yes. Husband, actually." Josef ran the bristles carefully through Sarah's hair, smoothing the cuticle with his hand as he went.

"He's a Vampire, like you?" Ella continued to make small talk, as she went to check the temperature of the rollers.

"Of course." Josef furrowed his brow in concentration, as he worked on teasing out a particularly stubborn knot.

"How long…"

"…Eighty years."

"Are you happy with him?" Ella rejoined Josef on the bed opposite Sarah. Hot rollers in hand.

"Very." Josef's reply was sincere and to the point. He returned to his seat alongside the bed, giving Ella room to complete her task.

"I'm sure Miss Whitley would have wanted that." Ella smiled as she concentrated on rolling and pinning strands of Sarah's hair. And then she paused for a moment, waiting until Josef's gaze met hers. "Mr Kostan? If you don't mind me saying, Sir, everything happens for a reason."

Josef locked focus with Ella, and then smiled, and nodded his agreement. Her voice has sounded so earnest, and reassuring. "I know."

Josef stood up, smoothing the front of his shirt with a brisk hand. And then he was taking his leave. His back turned on the past as he headed towards the door, Ella's words still ringing in his ears.

_"Everything happens for a reason."_

* * *

No sooner had they landed at Bratislava airport, Josef was on the phone making arrangements to meet with Auguste. They sat in Auguste's appointed chambers now, across from one another. Josef's hands raised in placation, his manner and voice contrite.

"I know I should have discussed this with you beforehand, I apologise. Time was of the essence, as they say." Josef laid it on thick, smothering his words with a layer of charm. And then he tapped a pointed finger, indicating one of the photographs spread out on the table in front of Auguste. "This, right here. This is my problem. Mine to deal with, alone. If what Roisin has surmised is true, then the only reason we're even considering going to war with The Legion is because of me. "Look," Josef leant forward, adopting a tone of comradery, "you know, as well as I do, that no matter how well prepared we are, some of us are going to die. Why even risk that if you don't have to."

"Oh, so suddenly you've turned altruistic, and have nothing but the best interests of your fellow Vampires in mind?" Auguste tittered with amusement. "By 'some of us' I assume you mean your loved ones, in particular."

"Of course." Josef gave a disaffected shrug, and sat back in his seat.

"Yes, of course." Another smattering of amused laughter, eyes raised skyward for a moment. And then Auguste's voice shifted serious. "What about Roisin? She's worked harder than you can possibly imagine preparing us for war. Are you really willing to take that away from her?"

"If Roisin is anything like her mentor sitting before me, "Josef smiled. A little flattery went a long way in his experience, "then her foremost consideration will be to the welfare of the Vampire Nation as a whole. As is yours."

"Silver tongued devil." Auguste arched an eyebrow, and chuckled.

"You know I'm right." For a moment Josef thought he might have gone too far. Sitting forward once more, he'd locked a determined gaze on Auguste, and adopted a challenging tone. 'I dare you to tell me I'm wrong'.

Auguste didn't flinch, didn't say a word. Just fixed his own cold, dead stare on Josef, and waited. Waited until Josef had averted his eyes, shoulders slumped in submission.

"Ok. You may approach Jonathon Whitley, and negotiate for a permanent truce."

And then just like that, an agreement had been reached.

Returning home from an afternoon spent watching his youngest niece and nephew play a game of tag in a nearby park, the last thing Jonathon Whitley expected to see was the image of Josef Kostan seated behind the desk of his office.

"I wouldn't do that if I was you." Before he'd had a chance to call for security, Josef had rounded the desk, and caught Jonathon Whitley by the throat. "I could snap your neck, and leave you for dead before you managed to utter a single word."

For a few moments Jonathon Whitley locked gazes with Josef. Staring defiantly into the silver blue eyes, red rimmed and set in pale visage, of the Vampire holding his life by the scruff of its neck.

And then he relented. "How did you get in here?"

"That's not important." Josef released his hold, and gestured for Jonathon to take a seat.

Collecting the manila folder from the desk where he had left it, Josef laid the photographs of Sarah out, one by one, for Jonathon Whitley to see.

"This is a trick." Jonathon stared at the pictures of the woman he knew as his Great Aunt, in disbelief. The date and time stamp showed they had been taken less than 24 hours ago.

"It's no trick. I have digital film footage as well if you'd like to see it." Josef affected a laissez faire tone. Nevertheless he kept a careful watch on Jonathon Whitley, studying the nuances of his reaction.

"Why are you showing this to me?" Jonathon Whitley's voice was barely above a hoarse whisper. His eyes transfixed on the images before him.

Josef placed a finger underneath Jonathon's chin, and turned the man's attention towards his. "I didn't kill her. Those pictures are proof of that. All these years you've hated me for the wrong reason."

_"No, you didn't kill her. You just condemned her to a living death. Monster."_

"What do you want, a medal?" Jonathon scoffed out loud.

"No," Josef shrugged, and leant against the desk, half seated on its wooden surface. Arms folded loosely across his chest, and legs casually crossed at the ankle. "I want you to agree to a permanent truce. No more attacks, no more animosity."

"You dare…" Jonathon Whitley half rose from his seat, a hand on his shoulder pushed him back down again. "There haven't been any attacks on you, or your loved ones, for years."

"I know that," another dismissive shrug, "but there have still been other attacks, on other Vampire families. And there's no guarantee the attacks on my family won't start up again either."

"True." Jonathon tented his fingers, and fixed a taunting smile on Josef. Unspoken delight at the thought of Josef jumping at shadows, never knowing if, or when, another threat would appear.

Josef ignored Jonathon's not so thinly disguised attempt at goading him into a response. Jonathon wanted a reaction. One he could use to demonstrate the inhumanity of his foe. Josef could almost hear Jonathon Whitley's voice, shrill and insistent. Look. First he condemns this beautiful young woman to a life trapped in the void of nothingness, and now he attacks me. I tell you I was lucky to survive such an ordeal. This man is a demon, a demon with no consideration, and no control. Both he, and his kind are beyond redemption.

"You know, as well as I do, that if you continue to attack the Vampire nation, eventually there will be consequences." Josef turned to face the man in front of him direct then, leaning close, and lowering the tenor of his voice. "Do you really want to risk the lives of your fellow human beings in pursuit of your own personal vendetta?"

"What do you want?" The same question, devoid of sarcastic remarks about medals this time.

"Peace. A truce, to be precise." Josef casually flicked his nails, studying each one in turn. "An agreement from you that this will end. No more attacks. No more animosity between us."

"Just like that." Jonathon Whitley gestured a facetious hand, and then stood up.

"Pretty much." Josef smiled and performed a mirror image of Jonathon's actions, "Just like that."

"You're not much of a negotiator," Jonathon Whitley took a seat behind his desk then. Reaching for a pile of papers to the left of him, "You announce and expect everyone to go along with what you have to say. I must admit it's somewhat of a disappointment, judging my your reputation." Jonathon hurried on, before Josef had a chance to respond. "However, fine. I accept your offer of a truce, for now. For the remainder of Roisin's pregnancy there will be no attacks, and no animosity. Now if you don't mind, I have work to do. I'm sure you can see yourself out."

With that Jonathon Whitley began scrawling notes across pages. Stamping and marking off lists of things that needed his attention.

"Jesus." Mick closed his eyes, and groaned at the sensation of Josef rocking into him.

The subject of Josef's meeting with the head of The Legion had been brokered the moment Josef returned. Mick's need to know met by a muffled reply of, "Later," half swallowed by Josef's lips pressed firm against his own.

Mick lay on his side facing away from Josef. One leg raised, and hooked back over Josef's thigh. The other bent at a ninety-degree angle. Josef had one hand centred in the middle of Mick's chest, holding him steady. Josef's other hand wiped beads of sweat from Mick's brow. Fingers brushing aside strands of hair dampened with perspiration.

And then that same hand was reaching down to grip Mick's hip. Fingers dug into the space between flesh and bone, seeking leverage.

Mick's fangs sliced through his lower lip as he fisted his cock, stroking his length in sync with the increasingly erratic pace of Josef pounding into him in earnest now, and tried to keep from making too much noise. Roisin's room was just below theirs. She was in there now, trying to get some rest. An afternoon's nausea had left her feeling out of sorts.

And then it didn't seem to matter. Nothing else seemed to matter, save the flooding warmth of Josef coming inside him, fangs sunk deep into the side of Mick's neck, Josef growling his way through the climax that tore through him, and Mick's own orgasm, approaching with the force of a hurricane.

"Oh shit. Oh Jesus, fucking Christ, damn. Fuck!" Mick made a hurried grab for Josef's arm, feeling sinew and bone crunch beneath his bite as the waves of release crashed over him.

"What? No amen and hallelujah?" Josef chuckled when he felt Mick extricate his fangs from his wrist.

"Yeah." Mick rolled his eyes, and twisted his mouth into a patronising smile, "Very funny."

Mick's smile shifted genuine then, as he reached for a nearby towel, and heard Josef's voice whispering in earnest. "I love you."

"I know," Mick quickly wiped the traces of semen from his fingers, and then settled back into Josef's embrace. The two of them still joined. "Ditto." Seconds ticked by, extending into minutes, the air between them punctuated by a comforting silence. And then Mick spoke again. "You know, you don't have to tell me all the time, Josef."

Josef withdrew from Mick's space, and waited for Mick to turn towards him. Half raised up on one shoulder, head cocked, and expression puzzled. "I thought you liked me saying 'I love you'?"

"Yeah I do." Mick's own position mirrored that of Josef's. Fingers outlining the contours of Josef's jaw, and brushing across his lips, "I didn't hear you say it for nearly ten years, Josef, of course I like you saying it now."

"So, what's the problem?" Josef arched another quizzical eyebrow, and waited to be filled in. Wondering what in the hell Mick had managed to concoct this time.

"You tell me at least three times a day."

"And?"

"And you don't have to." Mick smiled, and gave an open palm shrug. As if that one simple gesture explained everything.

"Ok, well," Josef cleared his throat, and pretended to adopt a studious air. "I shall make a note of that for future reference, Mick."

"No, I didn't mean it like…"

"…I know what you meant." Josef cut in on Mick's exasperation. "And since when did I ever do anything out of obligation?"

"Yeah ok, point taken." Mick gave an embarrassed laugh and moved into Josef's arms, as Josef lay back, and gestured for Mick to join him.

"You know the one thing I regret most of all with Sarah?" Josef caressed a hand across the top of Mick's head rested against his shoulder, and pressed his lips to Mick's forehead. "I never said the words 'I love you'. I felt it, but I never actually said it to her. I had this ridiculous notion that I was going to save it for a special moment, right after I'd turned her into a Vampire and we embarked on our wonderful life together."

"I'm sorry," Mick shifted closer. "I didn't know."

"I never told you." Josef gave a dismissive shrug, and drew his arms tighter around Mick's shoulders. "I spent close to forty years feeling it, and never saying it to you either. Maybe I'm making up for lost time."

"Maybe." Mick smiled, and nodded his agreement. And then he was propping himself up again, and shifting the conversation to more pressing issues. "Speaking of Sarah, how did it go with this Jonathon Whitley character, any luck?"

"Some." Josef reached up, and drew Mick back down again. "He's agreed to a truce for the duration of Roisin's pregnancy at least."

"Well that's a start at least." Mick felt himself being manoeuvred into position on his back then, "So what's the…"

"Hey," Josef shifted his weight to lie on top of Mick. His lips trailing a blaze of kisses along the length of Mick's throat made it clear he'd finished discussion matters at hand, at least for the remainder of the evening, "less talking, more fucking."

In another room, another residence, Roisin sat passively and listened to Jonathon Whitley rally against his arch nemesis. Josef Kostan.

"He's insane, completely, and utterly insane. That's the only explanation for it." Jonathon paced the floor in front of Roisin, hands gesticulating wildly, punctuating his words with the occasional stab of a finger in mid air. "Peace, he asks. Yeah well peace on him. He may as well have killed her, the murderous bastard. And he expects to be rewarded for leaving her trapped in a pathetic half-life existence."

"Jonathon." Roisin tried to interject then, tried to bring a sense of order to the whirlwind of chaos spluttering saliva-flecked fury in front of her. "Calm down. Nothing's changed."

Roisin's heart sank a little then. Nothing had changed; her Uncle's efforts had been in vain. He had bought them some time, a moment's reprieve, and that was all.

Later she would place a phone call to Auguste, apprising him of the situation. The message would be relayed to Josef, who no doubt would pass it along to Mick. For now all she could do was sit, and watch. Sit, and watch, and mark the passing of time by the venom spewed forth from Jonathon Whitley's mouth. Sit, and watch, and feel her heart continue to sink, lower.

* * *

"Uncle Josef, feel this." Roisin reached for Josef's hand next to her, and placed it on the swell of her belly, "The baby's kicking."

Vampires had their own unique way of reproducing, nevertheless the experience of mortal reproduction still held a modicum of fascination. Josef felt new life stirring under the palm of his hand. And then he was raising an eyebrow, and grinning from ear to ear. "I think you're having a boy."

"What, where?" Her forehead creased with suspicion, Roisin batted her Uncles hand out the way, and replaced it with her own. "Uncle Josef, that's a finger."

"Are you sure?" Josef responded to his niece's eye-rolling admonishment with a cheeky smile, and some carefully placed teasing, "It feels like something else to me."

"Well it's not." Another round of eye rolling censure, this time with an added layer of huffed indignation, and then Roisin was addressing her Uncle seated at a small table on the opposite side of the room, imploring, "Uncle Mick, tell him to cut it out."

"Josef cut it out." Mick didn't bother to look up from the pile of papers spread out in front of him. The bills for Sarah Whitley's extended care had come through the other day. Ongoing expenses need to be calculated, and taken care of.

Close to five months had passed since their trip to New York, and Josef's subsequent meeting with the head of The Legion. Jonathon Whitley had kept his word. The truce had held. For the time being at least, there had been no further animosity.

"And?" Josef was on his feet then, heading over to where Mick sat. His lips drawn in a line of invitation as he came up behind, and draped a loose arm across Mick's chest. "What are you going to do about it if I don't."

Roisin smiled, and looked on with affection as she watched her Uncles interact. Mick pretending to look stern, before reaching for Josef's hand, and pressing the palm of it to his lips, Josef pressing his own lips to Mick's ear, whispering a declaration of love. The two of them engaged in an intimate kiss.

And then she was drawing in a sharp breath, and gritting her teeth against a niggling wave of pain. It had been happening on and off all morning. The Nurse at the clinic had told her it might. It was just her body's way of preparing for the main event. Nothing to be concerned about, she was sure. She wasn't due for another two weeks.

Another wave of pain struck, stronger than the first, followed by a gush of wetness between her legs.

"Ah, Uncle Mick, Uncle Josef?" Roisin stood up unsteadily, "Don't panic, but…"

Roisin's attempt at alerting her Uncles to the situation, ended with the rest of her words being wrenched away by a bolt of pain that made her cry out, and left her doubled over.

Mick was on his feet in an instant. "Crap, I'll…"

"…Go boil some water."

Mick and Roisin both turned and stared at Josef in wide-eyed disbelief.

"Yeah alright, Josef," Mick gave a patronising smile as he fetched the keys to the car, "you stay here, and boil some water. In the meantime, I'll drive Roisin to the hospital."

"Oh shut up." Josef muttered under his breath as he grabbed a jacket, and followed after them, castigating Mick on the way. "How many babies have you helped deliver in your time, Mick?"

"None, Josef." Mick opened the back door of the car, and helped Roisin in, before heading around to the driver's side.

"Exactly." Josef continued to berate as he climbed into the passenger seat next to Mick, "It just so happens I helped deliver most of my siblings. We didn't have nice, convenient hospitals to drive to back in 1620."

"Yeah, well, it's 2085," Mick gunned the engine, and threw the car into drive, "not 1620. Times have changed since then."

"Really?" Josef responded with lashings of mock surprise. "Thanks for pointing that out to me, Mick. I would never have known otherwise."

"You're more than welcome." Mick drew the line of his mouth into another patronising smile, intent on following up with further remarks.

"Oh for the love of God." Roisin interrupted sharply. "Will the two of you stop bickering, and just drive me to the bloody hospital already."

"Sorry." Mick muttered a sheepish apology as he pointed the car in the direction of St Barbora's Hospital near Roznava, and then addressed Josef. "You'd better call Katherine, and tell her what's going on."

Cell Phone in hand, Josef began punching in Katherine's number. "I'm already on it."

Forty-five minutes later, travelling via the newly laid Petzval Highway, they were screeching to a halt outside St Barbora's emergency department entrance.

"You're just going to leave the car parked there like that?" Josef raised a quizzical eyebrow as Mick piled out of the car along with him, and Roisin.

"I'll worry about that in a minute. Let's just get her checked in, and seen to first."

Mick and Josef took up position either side of Roisin. Arms drawn around her waist as they went to assist her inside, much to Roisin's chagrin.

"I can walk by myself." Roisin gritted her teeth, and huffed indignantly. "I'm having a baby, not crippled."

"Okay then." Josef affected a gracious smile, and stepped aside. Mick followed suit. Roisin managed two steps before she found herself sunk to her knees on the ground, clutching her stomach against the shockwave of pain elicited by another round of contractions.

"Shit." Roisin scrubbed the back of an embarrassed hand over her eyes, wiping away tears that had formed.

"You were saying?" Josef stood over his niece, grinning as he extended a hand toward her.

"Shut up," Roisin wailed as she accepted her Uncle's proffered hand, "this isn't funny."

Mick moved to comfort Roisin as he took up position alongside his niece, and drew another steadying arm around her waist, "We're not laughing at you."

"He is." Roisin glared, and stabbed an accusatory finger towards Josef.

'What?" Josef pretended to look mortally wounded, "You mean you don't find my relaxed sarcasm comfortingly familiar?"

"Alright, enough. Josef, get her inside, and get her booked in. I'll go park the car, and meet you in there." Mick was reaching the end of his patience. If they stood there hurling pot shots at one another all day, Roisin would be apt to give birth on the pavement.

The Nurses on triage took one look at Roisin's condition, as she walked through the Emergency department doors doubled over in pain, with Josef doing his level best to hold her upright, and not tread on her independence at the same time, and placed a hurried call to Obstetrics. A few minutes later, Roisin found herself being lead upstairs to the Maternity Ward on the second floor.

"How are you feeling?" Josef asked gently as he watched his niece alternate between pacing the room, and crouching with her arms wrapped tightly around her knees.

"Try pushing something ten times bigger than normal out your arse, and then you tell me." Roisin continued to track holes across the floor. And then she was raising a curious eyebrow, and managing a weak smile, "So what happened to Mr Relaxed Sarcasm?"

"He's retired, too much effort." Josef pretended to wave a dismissive hand, and then flopped dramatically into a nearby chair, overcome with apparent exhaustion, "Seriously, do you realise how much energy it takes to be that cynical?"

Almost in spite of herself, Roisin laughed. She tried lying on the bed then, turned on her side with her knees drawn up to her chest, hoping a paradigm shift from vertical to horizontal would provide some relief from the pain. "Where's Uncle Mick?"

"Still parking the car I presume." Josef shifted his chair closer to where Roisin lay.

"Nope, all done," Mick walked into the room, and greeted Josef with a kiss. "How's our little trooper doing?"

"Splendidly," Josef offered up an encouraging grin, and then arched a conspiratorial eyebrow at his niece. "Roisin has just been educating me about the experience of childbirth…"

"…Oh really?" Mick pulled up a seat.

"Yes, apparently," Josef deadpanned, "it's just like being fisted in reverse."

Mick raised his eyes skyward, and shook his head, pretending to look wearily amused at Josef's antics. And then he was pressing a hand against his mouth, and being reduced to fits of choking laughter. As he tried desperately to stifle his guffaws, and failed miserably.

"Oh, very funny." Roisin was on her feet then, indignation at the ready, "I never said anything of the sort. Why do you always have to…?" The rest of Roisin's sentence ended with a low cry, and Roisin sinking to her knees. A hand pressed against her abdomen as she tried to concentrate on breathing her way through more contractions. They were coming thick and fast now, giving her almost no respite in-between. For a moment she was gripped by a sense of fear. Things were progressing quicker than she had expected. "Where's Mum? She should have been here by now?"

"I'll call her again." Josef stepped out the room for a moment.

"Have they given you anything for the pain?" Mick squatted alongside Roisin, and then helped her to her feet, watching as she lay across the bed standing up.

"A while ago. It took the edge off."

"Katherine's just parking the car. She'll be here any second." Josef made his way over to Roisin. "Are you ok? Do you need anything?"

"No, I'm…"

"…Are you sure? You don't want us to fetch you a drink of water or something?"

"No, really, I don't need…"

"…What about a back rub? Do you want me or Uncle Mick to give you a back rub?"

"No, I…"

"What about…?"

"Uncle Josef," Roisin's tone came out sounding harsh. Her Uncle's sudden altruism grated on her nerves. "Just stop it, for Christ sake."

"Hey. Come on, Roisin," Mick stepped in, "Josef's just trying to help. Give us a break, this isn't…"

"Oh, Bite me!" Too late, Roisin realised what she'd just said.

Josef cleared his throat, and pretended to look steadfast. "If you think it will help with the pain?"

And then the time for amusement was over. Roisin's expression was steeped in panic. "I feel like I need to push."

"I'll go find a Doctor." Mick took off running, nearly knocking Katherine off her feet in the hallway as he went.

"What's going on?" Katherine swept into the room in a flurry of maternal concern, making her way over to her daughter. "I'm here now, Roisin."

"Mum." Roisin dissolved into tears, and clung to her Mother's neck. "I've changed my mind, I don't want to have this baby. I'm not ready."

"Well you've left it a little late for all that, sweetheart," Katherine smiled, as she smoothed her daughter's hair.

Roisin was bundled into a wheelchair by an orderly then, and wheeled down the corridor into the hospital's main birthing suite. Medical staff fussed around her, checking Roisin's pain level, and noting the timing of contractions.

"She's fully dilated. Time to get this show on the road." The Obstetrician on duty finished performing a quick internal examination under the modesty of a sheeted screen, and then placed an encouraging hand on Roisin's shoulder. "Ok, when I tell you to, I want you to give it all you've got."

Josef and Mick stood back and watched, as Roisin grunted, and sweated, in front of them, her body straining with the effort of giving birth. Her face bunched red with exertion, gripping her mother's hand as she tried to follow the Doctor's instructions, and bear down with all her might.

"You're doing great, sweetheart." Katherine kept a positive dialogue throughout, trying to cheer her daughter on.

"There's so much blood." Josef lowered his voice to a level inaudible to human ears, and stared at the amount of blood Roisin's efforts seemed to be producing, "Mick, I don't remember there being this much blood."

"Josef," Mick lowered his own voice, and spoke out the corner of his mouth, "that's our niece, stop salivating."

"You stop salivating." Josef responded out the corner of his own mouth.

By unspoken mutual consent they both agreed then that it would be a good idea if the two of them stepped away. A nurse passing by mistook their agitation, as they stood in the corridor and tried to ignore their thirst, for something else.

"Don't worry about it." The nurse approached, and placed a reassuring hand on both their shoulders, "It happens all the time. Birth is a messy business; it's never an easy thing to witness. No need to feel embarrassed."

Josef and Mick each made a hurried speech of gratitude, and tried not to laugh. Two hours later, Katherine was stepping out into the corridor with them.

"She's just had a little girl." Katherine was beaming from ear to ear, shoulders drawn back and chest puffed out with the pride of a newly made Grandmother. "They're just getting her cleaned up, and tending to the baby."

"Everything's ok then?" Josef's concern for mother and child was apparent.

"Everything's fine." Katherine beamed more notes of pride; "You can come in and see her in a minute."

"Uncle Mick, Uncle Josef." Roisin greeted her Uncles return with an exhausted smile, and then looked down at the small bundle of life kicking and squirming at her breast. Her voice fell soft spoken. As if she couldn't quite register the reality of it all just yet. "I had a baby."

"Well what did you think you were going to have?" Josef grinned, and raised a challenging eyebrow, before making his way over to Roisin's side to offer his congratulations on a job well done.

"Have you thought of a name for her?" Mick asked as he joined in the celebrations, and embraced his niece warmly.

"Yes." Roisin looked to her Uncle Josef then, "I think I'd like to call her Miriam."

For a moment Josef was rendered speechless. Carried off into a past remembrance of children taken before their time, and a baby sister he never had the chance to see grow up. "It's a lovely name," he managed finally.

As if to mark her agreement, Miriam revved up her lungs and let out an ear splitting wail. And then Roisin was offering her to Josef, asking if he'd like to have a hold.

Josef shrugged an agreement, and accepted the child from Roisin's arms. Smiling as she settled into his, and then raising her up to whisper against the top of her tiny head.

"Welcome to the world, little one."


	8. Chapter 7

**Specific Chapter Warning:** There is a non explicit description of Anal Fisting at the end of this chapter.

* * *

"Roisin?" Mick approached Roisin downstairs in her living quarters. Seated on the brocade lounge Josef had purchased for her, staring at the wall in front. Seemingly oblivious to her daughters screams just a few scant feet away. "Miriam's been crying for hours. Don't you think you should see what she wants?"

"I was hoping she'd just settle, eventually." Roisin gave a disinterested shrug, and then brightened for a moment. "There's some expressed milk in a bottle in the fridge. Would you mind?"

"Sure." Mick watched as Roisin picked Miriam up from her bassinet, and handed her off to him. Like she was passing a rag doll. For a moment Mick thought to say something, and decided not to. He'd broached the subject before, they both had, to no avail. Roisin kept insisting she was fine.

"Are we baby sitting again?" Josef rolled his eyes, and pursed his lips with distaste.

Six weeks had gone by since Roisin had given birth. Six weeks in which it seemed Miriam spent more time in the care of her Uncles, than she did with her own mother.

"Well what are we supposed to do?" Mick looked worn out as he took a seat next to Josef, "She's not looking after her properly. Do you want to just sit up here and listen to the kid scream all day because Roisin can't be bothered to take care of her own child."

"Of course not." Josef sighed, and then gestured for Mick to hand Miriam to him. "Come on, you took her last time. It's my turn."

"We need to let Katherine know what's going on." Mick rested wearily back against his seat.

"Roisin sees her mother once a week." Josef focused his attention on the tiny bundle of mortality in his arms. "You don't think she would have picked up on something by now?"

"You know how it is when she's out in public. She puts on an act. It's different when she's home here with us." Mick looked on as Josef brushed the teat of a bottle against Miriam's mouth, encouraging her to suck. "It wouldn't be so bad you know."

"What wouldn't?"

"Us," Mick smiled at the scene in front of him, "having kids I mean."

"Oh." Josef looked up from his task, and raised a pointed eyebrow, "And just how do you expect we're going to achieve that miracle of science exactly, Mick?"

"We could always adopt." Mick gave a nonchalant shrug, and stretched his legs out in front of him.

"Yes," Josef quipped, lips drawn into a facetious smile, "because I'm quite sure there are at least half a dozen adoption centres just lined up ready to pass an infant off to an almost five hundred year old blood drinker, and his equally immortal husband. As a matter of fact why don't I send an application form off in the mail tomorrow? I'm sure it's just as easy as ordering from a catalogue. We should expect delivery in four to six weeks."

"Yeah, very funny." Mick rolled his eyes, and shot Josef a disapproving look. "It was just a thought."

"And let us never speak of it again." Josef hurried on before Mick had a chance to reply. "You're right about Katherine though, I'll call her tomorrow night. She should be home then."

Later that evening Mick showered while Josef went in search of Roisin. They'd planned a night in, just the two of them. A procurement of local Freshies, warm blood tapped fresh from an open vein, followed by wall banging, headboard pounding sex. It had been a while since they last indulged; on the Freshie side of things at least, they were both looking forward to a change in nutritional pace.

Josef found Roisin downstairs in her room, dressing to go out.

"Uncle Josef, I'm so sorry," Roisin turned towards her Uncle. Hands raised in a gesture of contrition as he walked towards her with Miriam in his arms, intent on reuniting mother and child. "I completely forgot. I'm supposed to be meeting with Auguste. You don't mind taking her again do you? I really can't get out of this."

Roisin was a flurry of activity then, shifting from one thing to the next as she readied herself to go.

"So, take her with you." Josef shrugged, as if that settled the matter, and then carefully laid Miriam back in her bassinet.

"I can't." Again Roisin was filled with apology, "We're doing training run throughs. Auguste wants me to stay up to speed. You know there's been some reported attacks recently."

Josef was well aware of the reported attacks. Auguste had apprised him of the situation. Jonathon Whitley had wasted no time getting the show back on the road. They'd started again just one short week after Miriam was born. Several lower level Vamps had been killed, along with a middle ranked member of the order. That still didn't change the fact he'd been looking forward to spending an evening in with Mick, and now his plans had been derailed.

"Christ, Roisin," Josef's anger welled to the surface, and spilled over, "this is bullshit. Mick and I had a whole evening planned for ourselves. We've got guests coming over. It's not convenient for us to take her."

"Well it's less convenient for me, and Mum and Pierre are out catching that new Opera that's in town, so you tell me what else I'm supposed to do." Roisin shot back defensively, and then quickly softened her tone. "I wouldn't ask if there was any other way, Uncle Josef. Please."

"This is such bullshit, Roisin," Josef raised his eyes skyward, and repeated his previous intonation. And then he was falling into a reluctant agreement. "Ok. Ok, just go. We'll take her. Despite the fact it's going to put a huge dampener on our plans for tonight."

Roisin ignored her Uncle's barely disguised attempt at inciting guilt, and placed a grateful kiss on the side of his face instead. "Thank you, Uncle Josef. I'll make it up to you, and Uncle Mick, I promise."

"Roisin?" Josef called after his niece's retreating form, " Aren't you going to say goodbye to Miriam?"

"Uncle Josef, I'm running late." Roisin reluctantly turned, and then backed away, looking to break into a run at any given moment.

And then she was gone. Heading off out the door, and into the night, without once having looked at the daughter she had given birth to just a few scant weeks before.

* * *

"You were right the other night you know," Josef approached Mick standing at the balcony window, and draped his arms around Mick's shoulders. "It wouldn't be so bad, us having kids."

Mick tossed back the last remnants of his morning glass of blood, and reached for Josef's hand, entwining their fingers together. "So why the change of heart?"

"Who said anything about having a change of heart?" Josef shrugged, "I'm just saying you were right. It wouldn't be so bad. We'd manage if we had to."

"You're talking about Roisin, aren't you?" Mick disengaged himself from Josef's embrace, and walked over to the lounge, placing his empty glass on the coffee table in front of him. His brow furrowed with concern, "Do you really think she'd reject Miriam like that?"

"No, not necessarily." Josef's expression seemed to contradict his words, as he followed after Mick, and took a seat next to him. One hand rested on Mick's thigh. "I'm just making an observation."

Mick snorted a quick laugh, and shook his head. Josef hardly ever 'just made observations'. He was concerned, not matter how well he tried to hide it. Mick didn't blame him.

"What time did Katherine say she'd be here?" Mick steered the conversation over to more practical matters then.

"Around nine, which means we should get a move on. It's past eight already." Josef stood up, and extended his hand toward Mick. "Come on. Come take a shower with me, and then get dressed. Katherine will be here soon."

"This has been going on for six weeks, and you didn't think to tell me about it sooner?" Katherine's tone was accusatory as they sat in the communal Kitchen, and discussed the situation with Roisin.

"You're her Mother, Katherine. Roisin's been spending time with you as well. And last I heard you were still a Vampire."

The expression on Josef's face was clear. Why hadn't Katherine picked up on any of this herself?

"Yeah, and don't forget, this is new territory for us as well." Mick mounted his own defence, "We've never had to deal with a situation like this before, having a human who's just given birth, and a newborn baby living under the same roof. Roisin kept insisting she was fine. Maybe we thought she just needed some time to adjust."

"Yeah, well. She's had time." More accusations were levelled. And then Katherine was running a concerned hand through her hair, and offering a hasty apology. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…I shouldn't be assigning blame."

"You're worried about Roisin," Josef waved her aside. "We all are."

Katherine forced a smile, and nodded her agreement. "Is she here?"

"She's in her room, I believe." Josef replied, and then looked to Mick for confirmation.

"Yeah," Mick nodded, "she's in her room. I'm not sure if she's awake yet or not. You want me to go check?"

"No," Katherine shook her head, and then stood up. "It's alright. I'll go."

Upstairs, Roisin answered her mother's knock at the bedroom door. Hair dishevelled, and eyes still encrusted with sleep, she stifled a yawn, and mumbled a sleepy, "Hello."

"Ok, where is she," Katherine was all smiles as she stepped into the room, "where's my Granddaughter?"

"Asleep," Roisin rubbed a weary hand over her face, and pressed her fist to her mouth, stifling another yawn. "I just got her down an hour ago."

"You look tired." Katherine brushed her daughter's hair over her shoulders, and then cupped a hand underneath her chin. "What say you and me take a break for a while. Just the two of us, we'll go somewhere nice."

"What about Miriam?"

"Your Uncles can look after Miriam for a few hours," Katherine offered an encouraging smile, and mentally crossed her fingers, hoping Roisin would be in agreement.

She was. Katherine stood watch as Roisin busied herself getting ready, and then followed her into a small adjoining room, that had been converted into a nursery.

"Do you want me to take her?" Katherine asked, as Roisin leant into the cot where Miriam lay sleeping.

"No, it's fine," Roisin made a show of fussing over her infant daughter for a moment, tucking blankets around her chin, and making sure she was positioned properly, "let her sleep. I'm sure one of them can come get her if she wakes up."

"Ok. We'll head for the Traja Musketieri. I hear they have a new menu. " Katherine tried to keep the concern in her voice from becoming apparent, as she wrapped an arm around her daughter's shoulders. It was all an act. She could see that now. Again she quietly berated herself for not having picked up on Roisin's difficulties sooner.

"The Čingov is closer." Roisin gave a nonchalant shrug, as if she didn't particularly care where they went.

Katherine immediately acquiesced, "The Čingov it is then."

"So what's going on, Roisin?" Katherine cut straight to the chase, as her daughter tucked into a serving of grilled ribs, "Your Uncles are worried about you."

"These are delicious," Roisin put on an extravagant display of smacking her lips, and suckling at the tender meat on the bone. "Do you ever miss being able to eat food?"

"Sometimes, but I've gotten used to it. I had to." Katherine folded her arms across her chest, and regarded her daughter with a steely gaze, "And don't change the subject."

"I'm fine." Roisin's denial sounded a little too quick off the mark.

"Not according to what your Uncles have told me, you're not." Katherine was openly challenging her daughter now, pushing her for answers. Things had been let go long enough. She needed to get to the bottom of whatever was bothering her daughter, and fast.

"And what exactly have they said?" Roisin's discomfort was evident. Eyes averted, as she proceeded to tear the paper napkin next to her into tiny strips.

"That you don't seem to be bonding very well with Miriam," Katherine softened her approach. "And they're concerned that you haven't been taking care of her properly."

"Not all women are born mothers," Roisin mounted an indignant defence, "sometimes it takes a little time to bond with an infant."

Katherine reached for her daughter's hand. "There's more to it than that though, isn't there?"

"I don't know…"

"…I thought you wanted this baby?" Katherine gently probed, hoping to draw out a response.

"I did, I mean I do. It's not Miriam's fault…" Roisin started to fall back on a familiar protest.

"…But?"

A moment's pause to gather her thoughts, and then Roisin spoke again. Her voice sounding small, and quavering, barely above a whisper, "She looks so much like her Dad."

"Oh sweetheart," Katherine quickly moved to her daughter's side as Roisin's tears began to flow. "Come on. Let's go sit in the car for a while, and talk." Shielding her daughter from the stares of curious onlookers, Katherine led Roisin outside.

They sat in silence for a while. The doors of the car closed, windows wound up, shut off from the outside world, until Roisin found voice to speak.

"Every time I look at her, all I can see is him, and all I can think about is what he did to Uncle Josef." Roisin turned to her Mother, her expression pained, "Mum, you have no idea."

"I can imagine." Katherine tried to offer her understanding, "I read a bit of the book that your Uncle Mick was…"

Roisin cut her Mother off with a mirthless laugh. "No, Mum. Trust me, you don't know, and you can't imagine. I've seen the Order's case file."

Katherine went to say something else, to offer more words of reassurance, and comfort. She stopped herself just in time. Her daughter was right, she didn't know. "So what are we going to do about all this then," she asked instead.

It was a long time before Roisin spoke again.

"I don't know, Mum. I really, don't know."

* * *

It was just after first light, when Katherine brought Roisin home. They had spent the previous evening together, Pierre having knowingly made himself scarce for the night, going over what should have been old ground.

"So, how did it go? Did she say anything?" Josef asked, as Katherine took a seat on the armchair opposite the lounge where he sat, with Mick alongside.

Katherine nodded, "Yes, she did."

"And?"

"And, Miriam reminds her of Terrence." Katherine shrugged, and tried to keep the tone conversational. "That's why she's having trouble bonding with the child. Too many reminders of the past."

Try as she might, Katherine couldn't quiet keep the sorrow, and concern from her voice. She took a few moments to steady herself, before speaking again. "She says, every time she looks at Miriam, all she can see is him, and all she can think about is what he did to you. Poor little mite."

"You know, I really thought we'd be free of him once he was dead," Josef reached for Mick's hand. "It's like he's haunting us from beyond the grave."

"He's certainly managed to do a number on us, that's for damn sure." Mick spoke then, his fingers entwined tightly with Josef's. "No wonder Roisin's having problem, shit it didn't even occur to me that…"

"…I don't think it occurred to any of us." Josef squeezed Mick's hand. "It probably should have though. It's not like the signs haven't been there all along."

Katherine nodded again, and then recounted what had happened earlier in the year, when she had taken Roisin for her first Antenatal appointment. "I was concerned for her then. I suppose I just hoped that things would be different once Miriam was actually born." Hands balled into fists, Katherine bit back the threat of tears. "We've really dropped the ball on this one haven't we."

"No, not necessarily." Josef patted the seat next to him, and waited for Katherine to join them. A tender arm drawn around her shoulders, offered comfort from Sire to Childe. "I'm thinking I might take her away somewhere, just the two of us. Give her some space to work through all this. What do you think?"

Katherine gave it her consideration, and then replied. "Couldn't hurt to at least try."

"Where were you thinking of going?" Mick let out a groan of approval, and arched upwards when Josef's hand found its mark. "Any ideas?"

"Not sure," Josef contented himself with languidly stroking the length of Mick's cock. His own erection pressed against Mick's thigh. "Somewhere nice, quiet, not too far away. Any suggestions?"

"Yeah, I…Oh, Jesus," Mick gritted his teeth, and pumped his hips in response to Josef stepping up the pace. "What about Bratislava Castle? Didn't they convert it into a Hotel recently?"

"Indeed they have."

Josef grinned, the matter of where he would be spending time alone with Roisin settled. Swivelling his own legs past Mick's head, Josef took Mick's cock into his mouth, and waited for Mick to do the same. The remainder of the evening spent driving each other into a frenzy.

"Miss me?" Mick chortled on the other end of the line. Josef had been away with Roisin for five days by then, the two of them staying in separate, but conjoined rooms at the newly refurbished Bratislava Castle Hotel.

"Actually, I'm breaking up with you." Josef deadpanned in return. "I just didn't know how to say it. These past few days have given me amazing clarity."

"Very funny." Mick admonished Josef with an unseen roll of his eyes.

"What?" Josef affected an astonished tone, and tried not to laugh, "I'm serious. After eighty years, that's it, I'm done. Unless you can convince me otherwise." Josef's voice fell deliberately salacious.

"And how exactly would you like me to do that?" Mick stretched out along the bed where he lay. One arm tucked behind his head, the other trailing a downward trajectory towards his crotch. "Got any suggestions?"

"A few." Josef's own hand went to the zipper on his Suit pants, intent on releasing his cock from its constraints so he could jerk off. His body trembled slightly with anticipation as he pictured Mick at the other end. Listening intently, the conversation becoming more, and more explicit, Mick's hand curled tight around the shaft of his own erection.

A knock at his hotel room door brought a halt to proceedings.

"Crap. Hold that thought, lover." Josef grinned down the line, and then hurried to see who his visitor was, returning just as quickly to wrap things up. "Roisin's here," he explained. "We're going to run through some sword drills together. You know what a stickler Auguste is about Roisin keeping up with her training."

Mick laughed, and hid his disappointment. "Yeah, I know."

"I've got to go now, ok? Oh, and Mick?" Josef prepared to end the conversation on an affectionate note.

"What?"

Josef's tone shifted earnest then. "Of course I miss you."

"Like crazy?"

"Always."

"Was that Uncle Mick on the phone?" Roisin asked as Josef ended the call.

"Mm-Hmm," Josef nodded his acquiesce, and stood up.

"Didn't you already speak to Uncle Mick earlier today?" Roisin tilted her head, and regarded her Uncle in wonderment for a moment.

"Yes, twice actually." Josef gave a patronising smile, and began to hunt around for his shoes. "And I'll probably call him again before the day is through."

"You really miss each other that much when you're apart?" Roisin sat on the bed, and watched as Josef busied himself getting ready.

"Yes, we do." A quick change of shirt, shoes on, sword in hand, and Josef was ready to go. "Now come on, you can show me what you're made of."

"Be careful not to lift the sword away from your side like that," Josef instructed as he took Roisin through her advanced paces. "You'll leave yourself wide open."

Over on the sidelines Miriam lay in her bassinet, gurgling happily, and sucking on her own foot.

"Again."

Sword drawn, and at the ready, Roisin prepared for another round of mock battle with her Uncle.

"Good, that's better." Josef encouraged his niece with words of praise, sparks flying from metal as their swords clashed heavily. 'Watch your side opening."

And then without warning Josef turned on Miriam. Arcing the blade of his sword in a downward trajectory, toward the infant's neck.

"No, don't!" Roisin lunged, and smacked the sword from Josef's hand at the last possible moment.

"Ah, so you do care." Josef left his sword where it lay.

"Of course I care." Roisin turned away, indignant, "She's just a baby."

Josef placed a hand on Roisin's shoulder, and waited for her to turn back towards him. "Exactly, she's just a baby. Terrence's sins don't belong to the child, Roisin."

"Don't you think I know that already, Uncle Josef?" Roisin pleaded for understanding, "Do you think I like the fact that I can't bond with my own flesh and blood."

"No," Josef affected a casual stance, hands in pockets, leaning on one hip, "I don't think that at all. But I do think Terrence is dead, and we need to find a way to move past all of this."

Josef made an encompassing gesture to indicate what 'this' was, and then turned his attention to Miriam. Picking the infant up from her bassinet.

"Come here." Josef took a seat on one of the wooden benches lined up against the courtyard wall, and called Roisin over to him. "Look at her. Tell me what you see."

Roisin reluctantly studied the features of her daughter's face; sounding distressed "Him, I see him. That's all I see."

"That's all, nothing else?" Josef raised an eyebrow, "Are you sure? What about her ears, does she have his ears?"

"No," Roisin shook her head. "Her ears are more like mine. See the way the lobe seems to almost dip, and then curve. Terrence didn't have that. "

"Can't say I paid that much attention," Josef chuckled, and then waved his comment aside, "What about her nose."

Roisin looked to her daughter's nose, and then studied her tiny chin. "She's got your nose, and chin."

"What? She does not." Josef scoffed, and rolled his eyes, "There's an age gap of almost five hundred years between us. I doubt any of my lineage has been passed on to her."

Roisin resisted the urge to laugh at her Uncle's indignation, and offered a small-shouldered shrug instead. "Ok, so maybe it's just an O' Dwyer nose, and chin. That's still better than it being shaped like Terrence's."

"See, now we're getting somewhere." Josef grinned, and then continued in the same vein. Prompting Roisin to separate her daughter into parts, each one studied in turn. Trying to encourage her to see Miriam through fresh eyes.

Eventually things wound to a halt. "Uncle Josef," Roisin reached for the infant in Josef's arms. "I'm tired, and I need to get something to eat. Can I take her, please?"

It wasn't much, but Roisin swore then she could feel the faint echo of a bond beginning to form. Her daughter was the sum of all her parts, and not all of those bore Terrence's stamp.

"Sure," Josef smiled, and nodded his agreement as he handed the child over to Roisin. Trying not to make too big a deal of the progress they had made. "I need to phone your Uncle Mick again now anyway. We were in the middle of a conversation when you knocked earlier."

"Oh, I bet you were." Roisin arched an eyebrow at her Uncle, and gave a facetious laugh.

Josef merely waved a casual hand, and smiled at his niece. His intention etched clear behind a nonchalant expression.

"Uncle Josef, wait." Roisin called after her Uncle's retreating form as he began to take his leave.

Josef stopped, and turned back around to face his niece. Waiting for her to speak.

"Thank you." Roisin cradled the now sleeping infant against her chest, "From both of us."

* * *

One thing about Mick St John, he was a teller of tales, and a damn good one at that. Or so Josef had always thought. He was listening to Mick tell him a story right now, weaving explicit imagery out of thin air with the words he spoke.

"Oh Jesus, Fuck." Josef lay face down on the bed, thrusting his cock into an open fist. The phone in front of him set to speaker. "Don't stop, keep talking. I want to hear more."

Mick chuckled at the desperation in Josef's voice.

There was a loud knock at the door of Josef's hotel room. "You'd better go see who that is." Mick smiled to himself on the other end of the line.

"No, fuck it, they can wait or come back. I'm busy" Another knock followed, louder than the first. "Crap." Josef swore under his breath, and then made a hurried excuse. Insisting Mick understood that he would be right back.

Intent on ripping apart whoever was at the door for interrupting him at such a crucial moment, Josef made his way over to discover the identity of his mystery caller.

Josef opened the door to find Mick standing there, cell phone in hand, and grin like a Cheshire cat painted across his face.

"Surprise."

"Surprise?" It took Josef all of a split second to register what was going on. "Get your ass in here."

Josef dragged Mick through the open doorway, smothering his face, and throat with kisses hard enough to bruise.

"Shit, I've missed you." Mick growled. Josef had been away almost two weeks by then. Time spent apart. Roisin had continued to make progress, slowly building on that first faint echo of a bond. It was promising news. Still, it hadn't made the separation any easier to take.

"Likewise."

Mick found himself being shoved down to the floor then, jeans and underwear hastily pulled down around his knees. Josef followed suit, hurriedly lowering his own pants, and spitting into the palm of his hand, coating his length with a quick application of saliva.

"Jesus, Fuck!" Mick cried out, and bit down on his lower lip, drawing blood as Josef entered him roughly from behind. The full length of Josef's body stretched out over his, as Josef began pounding into him with complete abandon.

Riding out the initial pain, Mick spurred Josef on, and begged for more.

"Harder."

The pace shifted frantic, Josef proceeding to fuck Mick raw. Mick's fingers clawed at the tiled floor beneath him, needing something to hang onto as Josef hammered him at full pace.

And then it was all over, and they were coming together in a howling mess of semen, and blood. Fangs sunk deep, fluid pumping into, and over one another, convulsing, and snarling with pleasure.

"Damn." Mick raised his head, and laughed, blowing strands of hair away from his forehead after Josef had withdrawn to lie next to him.

Mick rolled onto his back, just in time to have Josef deliver a sharp, stinging blow to the top of his shoulder.

"Christ, what the hell was that for?" Mick yelped, more out of shock than fear of any real damage done.

"That's for not telling me you were coming." Josef affected a look of mock indignation, and then reached for Mick. "You up for round two?"

Without waiting for an answer Josef stripped the both of them out of their lower garments, and bent Mick's legs back against his chest. The pace easier this time, savoured.

Holding close, they drove each other to completion once more.

"I really am happy to see you." Extricating his fangs from Mick's throat, Josef withdrew, and then raised himself up onto outstretched arms, grinning down at Mick lying beneath him.

"Really?" Mick looked up with mock earnest, "I couldn't tell."

And then Mick was ducking out the way of a pre-empted fist, and laughing when Josef rolled his eyes, and declared him a, "Jerk."

"Next you'll be saying you love me." Mick continued his line of teasing, pretending to fend off more expected blows.

"I do love you, Mick." Josef spoke in all seriousness then.

"Ditto." Mick smiled, and drew Josef back down towards him.

They rolled onto their sides together. Legs hooked over, and jammed in-between one another's. "How's Roisin?" Mick asked, as he ground his crotch against Josef's.

"Good, getting better." Josef muttered a distracted reply, clinging to Mick's shoulders as Mick rode hard up against him.

"How long…?"

"…As long as it takes," Josef panted into the side of Mick's neck, "Soon. Another week. I don't know. Just shut up, and fuck me."

Josef's intent to be on the receiving end of round three was interrupted by another sharp knock at the hotel room door. For a moment he considered not answering it, but then whoever it was knocked again.

"Crap." Josef gritted his teeth, and swore. Disengaging himself from Mick's embrace, he adjusted himself back to a more respectable state, and went to answer their would be interrupter. "This had better be important."

"Uncle Josef, I'm sorry. I didn't know you had company." Roisin glanced warily at the thunder-faced expression her Uncle wore, and then looked past him to see Mick hovering in the background.

"What? What is it, Roisin? I'm kind of busy right now." Josef hid the raging hard on that strained against the front of his pants, behind the half open door. Desperate to get back to Mick, and finish what they had started.

"Ah, sorry, Auguste, Auguste called," Roisin stammered. Flustered by her Uncle's obvious impatience. "There's been another series of attacks, they're escalating. He's called a meeting."

Josef softened his tone, and nodded his understanding. "When?"

"A week from today," Roisin answered, "but he wants me back by tomorrow to go over things with him. I just thought you should know."

"Yeah, thanks. Of course." Josef smiled, and then rushed through an apology, uncharacteristically tripping over his own words. "Sorry, I didn't mean to sound like…It's just, Mick's here, and…"

"It's ok, Uncle Josef," Roisin chortled with patronising amusement, "I get it. Go have fun."

"Well, you heard the lady, Mick." Josef turned back to Mick, grinning like a loon after Roisin had left.

"Indeed I did."

Mick shifted to grab Josef around the waist, and then tackled him down to the floor. All thoughts of Auguste, and meetings called to order were lost for the time being. Swept away on a rising tide of tangled limbs, and hard, thrusting emotion.

* * *

"You worried about tomorrow?" Mick settled into Josef's arms. Skin diffused with sweat, and body replete from their latest round of coupling.

A fortnight had passed since Auguste Vasilescu had announced the Order's intent to prepare for all out war. A battle date had been set, plans set into motion. Jonathon Whitley himself had rolled the first dice, approaching Auguste with the offer of a round table conference, the leaders, and constituents of both parties meeting on neutral ground to discuss the possibility of an extended truce.

Jonathon Whitley, of course, had no intention of negotiating a truce, extended or otherwise. They had sat, and listened as Roisin detailed the Legion's true plans, a surprise ambush, with themselves emerging as the final victors. An ending the Legion felt sure had already been scripted. With considered thanks to the merits of one of their most trusted, a young girl who had been prepared to infiltrate her own family, and sacrifice the Father of her own child for a just, and noble cause such as this.

For several months now, the Legion had been under the impression that Roisin was working on their behalf. Gaining the trust of Auguste Vasilescu, and passing on false information designed to throw the Vampire Nation of the Legion's scent. All the while obtaining, and passing on top secret, covert information regarding the Order's exact plans if a full-scale battle were to go ahead.

Little did they know, all this time, it had been the other way around. Roisin's work as a double agent was about to pay off, just not as the Legion had intended.

Roisin herself had planned to lead the first wave of attack. The Legions reliance on pomp and ceremony meant the higher ranked leaders, and officials would be expected to arrive after those of lower ranked status had already gathered. If all went according to plan, they wouldn't be arriving at all. Roisin had spent the last five years training a team of elite soldiers hand picked by Auguste Vasilescu himself. Passing on all the skills of the Legion Assassin she herself had been taught. Coupled with an Immortal's already considerable powers, these added abilities would make them a formidable weapon. They were the ones who would slay the Legion's nobility where they stood, as the others assembled, and awaited the arrival of their superiors.

Roisin had not been impressed when Auguste had taken her aside before the meeting, and announced, in no uncertain terms, that she would not be taking part in the battle proper. All efforts to convince Auguste Vasilescu otherwise had fallen on deaf ears.

When the meeting had drawn to a close, Roisin had approached Mick. With her hand rested on his forearm, she bid Mick look at her direct, and asked, "Now do you understand?"

Mick knew what Roisin was trying to say. Did he understand now why she had left; did he understand why she had allowed Terrence into her bed? Did he understand why things had been the way they were. She had done it all for them.

Mick had smiled, and nodded his assent, and then spoken the words Roisin had been longing to hear.

"We're proud of you."

Mick stretched, and shifted position, hooking a leg over Josef's thigh. And then settled again, and repeated his previous question.

"Are you worried about tomorrow?"

"No." Josef's reply was a little too quick off the mark. He paused for a moment, and then answered again, honestly this time. "Of course I am. I'd be an idiot if I wasn't."

"Well if we have to go out, at least we'll go out the way we've always been." Mick traced absentminded patterns over Josef's chest with his finger.

"Oh yeah? And how's that, Mick?"

"Together."

Josef was about to point out that they hadn't always been together._ Eighty years, close enough_, he thought to himself instead, and pressed his lips to the top of Mick's head.

"So what happens if one of us makes it, and the other doesn't?" Josef heard Mick ask then.

"Then I fall on my sword, and die with you."

Mick had merely been thinking out loud. Josef had spoken completely in earnest.

Mick snorted a laugh and rolled his eyes.

"You really don't believe I'd take my own life if you ever died, do you?" Josef's tone was questioning.

"Not for a second." Mick propped himself up onto one shoulder, and regarded Josef with an arched brow grin. "Your sense of self preservation is far too developed. And besides," Mick continued, "you'd be breaking your promise to me if you did."

"Oh yeah?" This time it was Josef's turn to chortle with wry amusement, "And what promise would that be exactly, Mick?"

"The one that says, 'If Mick ever dies, I will find a way to wake Sarah up, and I will go on, and live a long, and happy, eternal life'."

Josef pretended to think for a moment. "Can I at least have a hundred years wandering insane in the wilderness, distraught with grief?"

"I'll give you ten."

"How about eighty?"

"Twenty."

"Sixty?"

"Forty."

"Fifty?"

"Done." Mick affected a mock serious look, and extended his hand to shake on the deal.

Laughing, Josef grabbed Mick's hand, and pulled Mick on top of him. "You know I love you, Mick St John."

"Really?" Mick regarded Josef with a lopsided grin, and pretended to look surprised. "And there was me thinking that whole wedding thing was your idea of a joke. Seriously, I've been waiting thirty years for the punch line."

Josef proceeded to raise his eyes skywards, and look less than amused by Mick's antics.

And then Mick was lowering his head, and pressing his lips against Josef's ear. Whispering a single word reply.

"Ditto."

Josef's mouth was crushed against Mick's own then. Hands seeking heated contact, exploring the planes, and angles of Mick's unclothed flesh.

"You up for another round?" Josef broke the kiss long enough to ask.

Mick quickly nodded his assent. And then Josef was gripping Mick's waist, positioning Mick over his cock, and whispering a heated command.

"Ride me."

Memories of an anniversary night, now past, were invoked. Another anniversary would soon be upon them, another celebration of the union that had begun in Paris all those years ago. They had seen, and experienced more in a lifetime than any mortal ever dared dream. More would undoubtedly come. For now they were content to lose themselves in a moment.

Mick lowered himself onto Josef's erection, and then urged Josef into a seated position.

"Breathe into me," Mick whispered, as he dug heels into the mattress behind, and ground himself onto Josef's length.

Mouths hovering together, they focused their intent. Hands clutching the sides of each other's skull, fingers digging in, possessing as they synchronised unneeded breath.

"Oh Jesus, Fuck, Yes." Josef groaned when Mick picked up the pace, both hands gripping Mick's arse, urging him on.

A kiss maintained, and then intensified, chests vibrating as they growled into each other's mouths. And then they were both coming with a muffled shout, and tasting the blood shared between them. Biting into each other's lips, and tongue as they rode out the waves of orgasm that crashed over them.

"Not so fast," Josef grinned when Mick withdrew, and went to lie back and relax, "I haven't finished with you yet."

Mick's eyes widened in anticipation when Josef produced a large tin of cooking grease, and pried open the lid.

"Oh fuck yeah. Do it, do it."

For a moment Josef was sure Mick was going to come again right then and there. He paused to stroke soothing fingers across Mick's brow, and then coated his fingers, and hand with the grease. Working the viscous substance up past his wrist.

"I want to know what this feels like for you. I want you to talk me through it."

"It's just…" Mick broke off to concentrate on relaxing through the initial pain, as Josef began to slip first one finger, and then another inside him. "It's intense," Josef had four fingers inside Mick now. His thumb added slowly, carefully pushing beyond Mick's resistance. "Oh shit, it's intense. I can't…"

"…Tell me how it feels."

"I can't," Mick whimpered, and drew his knees up further against his chest, "I can't, it's just…I feel like I'm going to fall apart."

"Then fall apart," Josef studied the expression on Mick's face, as he worked his fist inside Mick's arse. And with his free hand, began to stroke his own length. "I've got you."

"I know you do." Mick gasped out the words, "I know. That's what makes this so intense. The trust."

"You mean I've literally got you in the palm of my hand?" Josef grinned, unable to resist making at least one trademark quip.

Mick wasn't listening. Mick had gone beyond the point of being able to listen. And then he was arching his back, and shouting so loudly Josef was forced to press his forearm against Mick's lips. Instructing Mick to, "Bite down." Trying to muffle the amount of noise Mick was making lest he wake the dead, or at the very least, a small infant, and her Mother trying to sleep in the room below.

Eyes squeezed shut tight, and fangs sunk deep into Josef's flesh, Mick fell into the first of a series of protracted orgasms. Coming so hard, Josef thought for a moment Mick would bite straight through the bone in his arm.

It took Mick a while to reconnect. Josef carefully withdrew his hand, and pulled Mick into an embrace. Waiting for Mick to come back to earth.

And then Mick was laughing out loud, and remarking tongue in cheek, "So what was that then? One final fisting before we step into the fray?"

"Something like that." Josef laughed in return. And then his voice fell serious. "Please promise me you won't die tomorrow, Mick. I'm not prepared for that."

"And like I am." Mick rolled his eyes, and pretended to admonish Josef's remark. And then he was shifting to move over Josef, and making his way down the length of Josef's body. "I will do my best. In the meantime, how about we just stay in the here and now, and you let me take care of you."

And then it was Josef's turn to gasp, and stifle a groan of approval. As Mick's lips, and tongue found their mark.

"Are you ready?"

They stood side by side, surrounded by their own kind. Standing opposite a group of humans determined to posture, and puff their chests out with arrogant pride.

"Ready as I'll ever be." Mick reached for Josef's hand in the harshly lit fluorescence of the room.

Both dressed head to toe in black leather fire retardant suits, and auto shield masks and helmets, designed to ward off expected flamethrower attacks, they took a moment to feel for the swords by their side. The carrying of swords had been a Legion concession. Believing they would be able launch an attack that would reduce the Vampire Nation to ash in mere minutes, they hardly thought they would have time to use them. Guns, on the other hand.

Auguste was speaking to them then. Addressing those who had gathered to fight. His voice lowered beyond the realms of mortal hearing.

"Hold steady. Wait for my command."

And then the signal was received. The one that let Auguste Vasilescu know the first wave had been a success. The Legion's elite had all been laid to waste.

With a warriors cry, Auguste raised sword and gave the final command to unleash hell.

"Attack!"

Chaos reigned supreme. Unprepared, and relying on their own sense of smug superiority the Legion was caught completely off guard.

"Mick," Josef called out, as he waded ankle deep in blood. Gleefully hacking off limbs, and other body parts. "Mick, I haven't had this much fun in centuries."

"That's great, Josef," Mick called back from the other side of the room, as he tried to fend off a three-way attack, "I'm kind of getting my ass kicked over here."

"Be right there, lover." Josef dispatched another two victims, and then leapt across to severe the heads of two of Mick's attackers. Running the third through with his blade, and tearing one of the hapless man's arms clean from his body.

"Jesus Christ, Josef," Mick ducked out the way of a shower of arterial blood. "Point that thing away from me would you."

Before Josef had a chance to respond Mick was calling out, "Behind you."

Josef turned; sword arced in a sweeping motion. Auguste has seen what was about to happen, and stepped in to lend his assistance.

At the very last second Josef's would be killer somehow managed to duck out the way. Josef's sword connected with Auguste Vasilescu's neck instead. Neatly severing the Vampire leader's head from his shoulders.

"Oh crap." Mick was on his feet, standing at Josef's side. "You probably shouldn't have done that."

"No shit, St John." Josef stared at Mick, incredulous. All around them chaos slowly gave way to calm. And then all eyes, it seemed, were on them.

"Get behind me." Josef tried to shove Mick behind, and cover him with a raised protective arm.

"What are you doing?" Mick resisted Josef's efforts, and tried to swap position. "How about you get behind me."

"What do you mean, what am I doing?" Josef gritted his teeth, and sounded annoyed. "I'm trying to protect you."

"I'm not the one who needs protecting right now, Josef."

The other Vampires slowly gathered round. Watching with amusement, as the two non-Order initiates appeared to jostle, and vie for pole position.

And then it seemed the other Vampires were huddling together in some sort of meeting. Josef and Mick pricked up their ears, and tried to listen in.

_"Is there a precedent?"_

_"I agree it's highly unorthodox, but we stand by tradition."_

_"Has this ever happened before?"_

_"Not that I can remember."_

The former Chief Advisor to the now deceased, Auguste Vasilescu, cleared his throat, and stepped forward.

"My brethren, and I agree the circumstances are highly unusual," Sword lowered, and hands raised in placation, he approached Mick and Josef. "However, tradition is still tradition, and the Order of Dracul honours such."

With that the man bent down to retrieve an ornate platinum, and ruby ring from the index finger of Auguste Vasilescu's right hand. Moving toward Josef, he reached for Josef's hand then, and carefully slipped the ring onto Josef's own finger.

"Congratulations, Chancellor."

Josef proceeded to look dumbfounded.

"Wait, what?"


	9. Chapter 8

"Do I bow, or do I curtsey? I can never remember." Mick leant against the doorway of Josef's office, in what was now Vampire Nation Central, and grinned.

Two weeks had passed since Josef had unwittingly been declared Grand Chancellor. Two weeks, in which it had become increasingly apparent that no amount of begging, pleading, cajoling, or outright refusal was going to make one iota of difference. Tradition held that whoever slew the last, became Chancellor themselves. There was no getting away from tradition. Whether Josef liked it or not, tradition was going to be upheld.

"Neither." Josef swiveled in his chair, and offered Mick an arched brow grin of his own. "But you can come over here, and get on your knees."

Dismissing the guards from the room with a curt nod, Josef unzipped, and lowered his pants. Things were just settling into a nice rhythm, Josef's hands gripping the top of Mick's head, fingers entwined tight in Mick's hair, when proceedings were interrupted.

"Sir?" Josef's Chief Advisor burst into the room, a stack of papers in hand. "Sir we need you to go over…"

"…Christ," Josef radiated disapproval. "Don't you people ever knock?"

"My apologies, Sir. I had no idea you were otherwise preoccupied." The man at least had the good sense to avert his eyes. And then he was nodding a quick agreement, and hurrying to do as Josef instructed. Abruptly told to, "Wait outside."

"Not you." Josef rolled his eyes as Mick went take his leave also, and guided Mick's head back towards his crotch. One well-placed mouth, and finger later, Josef was coming hard down the back of Mick's throat, and biting into the flesh of his own wrist.

"Enjoy the break?" Mick wiped stray traces of semen from the corners of his mouth, and then shifted to straddle Josef's lap.

"Mm," Josef's fingers played a melody along Mick's spine. "I think I could get used to these office interludes of yours."

"Me too." Mick leant in for a kiss. A momentary embrace, lips pressed together in a declaration of love. And then Josef was pulling away.

"I'm sorry."

"I know." Mick nodded his understanding, and tried not to sound too disappointed. "You've got work to do. I'll wait outside."

"No," Josef shook his head, and then smiled, waiting for Mick to pull up a chair alongside. "Stay."

"I trust you're feeling refreshed, Sir?" The Chief Advisor locked gazes with Mick, and then shifted his focus toward the man he now referred to as Chancellor, as he strode back into the room at Josef's behest.

"A little drained," Josef pretended to trail a weary hand through the air, and then sat back grinning. "But it was worth it."

"I'm sure it was." The man nodded, and then gave a patronising smile of recognition, aimed towards Mick. "Some of our constituencies in South Africa have been causing problems again."

A series of reports were laid out. Josef studied each one in turn. "Why haven't you just killed them?"

"It's not that simple, Sir." The Chief Advisor gave a deferential nod. "There are quite a number involved, and a large amount of territory is at stake. If we were to eliminate the wrong Vamps, we could have a civil war on our hands."

"So." Josef shrugged, and waved a dismissive hand, "Kill them all."

"As you wish, Sir." Another curt nod, a barely disguised look of contempt, and the Chief Advisor was gathering his paperwork, and preparing to take his leave.

"Shut the door on your way out. Oh, and incidentally," Josef waited for the man to turn around. "Your services are no longer required. You're dismissed."

"But, Sir?"

The man's protest was interjected by the sound of Josef's voice, words spoken low, and measured from behind the comfort of his desk.

"Let me make one thing perfectly clear. I will not have you, or anyone else, disrespect my husband with those snide remarks, and patronising looks you were giving him." Before the man had a chance to respond further, Josef gestured to the guards standing either side to take him away, and then turned his attention back to Mick. "Now where were we?"

"Josef," Mick stood up, and shook his head. Eyes raised skyward, incredulous. "You can't just kill everybody."

"Why not, Mick?" Josef smiled, and pulled Mick onto his lap, an affected look of schoolboy innocence playing across his features.

"Because." Mick gestured in exasperation, "You just can't. Ok? It's not right. There won't be any Vampire nation left if you keep ordering everyone executed left, right, and center."

"You'll still be here." Josef grinned, and drew his arms around Mick's waist. Head rested against the crook of Mick's shoulder. "And so will I. And so will the rest of our family."

"That's not the point, Josef." Mick laughed almost in spite of himself, and repeated his words from before. "I just don't want you killing everybody. It isn't right."

"And what would you have me do instead, my beloved?" Josef handed Mick the copy of the report he had received, and gestured for Mick to look through it.

"Ah, ok. Well, why don't you…" Mick furrowed his brow, and worked distracted teeth along the edge of his thumb as he read. And then he was picking up a pen. "Give them the territories here, and here," Mick circled an area marked on the map in front of him. "Divide the other territories equally, here and here," more scrawling, another area circled, and then shaded in. "And then take control of the remainder of the territory, and send in someone to keep the peace."

"Like who?"

Mick thought for a moment. "What about that Vampire who paid us a visit last week, what was his name? The tall one, broad shoulders, bald head?"

"Yusef Anasis…"

"…Yeah, him."

"He's one of the Chieftains who looks after the lower European holdings, apparently." Josef pointed out as a matter of interest.

"Seems pretty capable." Mick shrugged, and let the rest of his words open.

"Ok," Josef tilted his head, and held Mick at arms length for a moment. "You're on. I'll draw up a draught resolution, and have one of our couriers deliver it tomorrow."

"And?" Mick prompted.

"And in the meantime," Josef grinned, and tapped a pointed finger against the side of Mick's face, "I will order a stay of execution for all those involved."

"Thank you." Mick offered up an adoring look, and pretended to flutter his eyelashes. And then he was pressing his fist to his mouth, and stifling a laugh at the raised eyebrow looks Josef was giving him.

"Have I told you lately how much I love you?" Josef's expression shifted earnest then.

"Yes." Mick smiled, and nodded, and then checked his wristwatch. "Let's see, you told me once just after breakfast, now again just after lunch. Don't forget you've got one more to fit in by this evening."

"Oh shut up." Josef rolled his eyes, and shot Mick a locked lip look of disapproval. And then he was reaching for Mick, and shifting Mick onto the desk. "Just for that," A hand in the centre of Mick's chest pushed Mick backwards. Hands fumbling with fastenings on jeans, Josef quickly stripped Mick out of his lower garments, and then pressed Mick's legs back against his chest, "I'm going to spend the rest of the afternoon fucking your brains loose."

"So how's the Grand Poobah doing?" Roisin bounced a gurgling Miriam on her knee, and flicked through a magazine next to her.

Mick gave a patronising smile, and then nodded. "He's doing fine."

"I bet he is." Roisin looked up briefly from her reading, and grinned. And then she was lowering her eyes, and casually turning another page. "Did you spend all day having sex in the office again?"

"We weren't…" Mick tried to offer a hurried protest, and then broke off with a sheepish laugh. "How did you know?"

"You've had that stupid grin plastered all over your face since you sat down." Roisin pointed to Mick's expression, "You know, the one that says, 'Hello, I've been bent over a desk, with my husband's cock in my arse all day."

"I wasn't _bent_ over the desk, Roisin." Mick rolled his eyes, and pretended to huff in exasperation. "If you must know, I was…"

"…Uncle Mick?" Roisin raised a stilling hand, "T-M-I."

"Yeah alright." Mick snorted a laugh, and then muttered under his breath. "You started it." And then he was furrowing his brow, and pointing a concerned finger towards the bruises on Roisin's arm. "How did you get those?"

Roisin studied the marks with casual interest. "I don't know. Bumped into something, I guess?"

"You don't normally bruise that easily." Mick studied his niece's face. She looked pale, and out of sorts. "You ok?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, just a little tired. This motherhood lark takes a bit of getting used to." Roisin gave a reassuring smile, and then leant over to place an affectionate kiss on the side of her Uncle's face. "I might head off to bed. Goodnight, Uncle Mick."

"Night, Roisin." Mick returned Roisin's affections, and then watched as she took her leave, a now sleeping Miriam cradled in her arms.

He resolved to talk to Josef first thing in the morning. Something was wrong, he was sure of it. Despite her banter, Roisin didn't look at all well.

* * *

Mick was upstairs; catching up on some much needed freezer time. When he was torn from sleep by a blast that rattled the walls, and sent shockwaves coursing through his body.

"The Fuck?" Mick pressed the release button, threw a robe around his naked form, and flew downstairs, his ears still ringing. "Josef?"

Josef had been downstairs, working while Mick slept. The lower portion of their home now converted into a mini headquarters for the Order of Dracul. Mick ran, frantic, not even registering that he had just screamed Josef's name.

"Mick, I'm ok. Don't press any panic buttons just yet." Josef tried to offer a hurried reassurance as Mick came across him. Josef slumped against the wall opposite the door to his office, bleeding profusely. Shards of glass dug into his skin, his clothing in tatters.

"What the fuck just happened?" Mick was by Josef's side in an instant, shaking with fear, and concern.

"Molotov Cocktail." Josef winced as Mick began working on removing the pieces of glass from his flesh, "Or a hand grenade. Thankfully I was almost out of the room when it was thrown. I'd just gotten up to come find you."

"Where the hell were the guards. Aren't they supposed to…?"

"I gave them the morning off." Josef waved a dismissive hand. And then rolled his eyes, and pursed his lips at the look of disapproval Mick had just given him.

"Yeah, well…" Mick's admonishment was caught short by the sight of Josef's would be assassin. A lone form lurking amidst the wooded forest surrounds, visible through the space where a wall should have been. Not more than 50 metres away from where they sat. "Son of a Bitch!"

A quick scent of the air told Mick they were dealing with one of their own. Whoever it was must have stayed behind to revel in the damage caused. And see if their mark had been successful.

Mick grabbed one of the emergency Flamethrowers they now kept on hand, and took off after the man. With Josef following close behind.

"I'll fucking kill you, you son of a bitch. Get here!"

A brief chase ensued, before Mick had his quarry cornered. Aiming the nozzle of the Flamethrower at the defiant form of the man they both recognised as Josef's former Chief Advisor, Mick burnt the elder Vampire to a crisp. And took out half the forest along with him.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, nice shooting there, Tex."

Josef hurried to stay Mick's hand. And then he was hitting the deck pronto, sliding along the ground with a face full of dirt, and pine needles. As Mick turned on instinct, Flamethrower still in hand, and pointed the nozzle directly at Josef.

"Shit, sorry." Mick dropped the weapon, and moved to help Josef up. Brushing the forest floor collection from Josef's already ruined suit.

"I'm fine, Mick." Josef gently rebuked Mick's assistance, and finished the job himself. And then he was taking a step back. Head cocked, and mouth drawn into a patronising grin, as he regarded Mick standing in front of him. "And pray tell, just what the fuck was that?" Josef gestured toward what was left of the singed, and blackened trees, and then remarked with sarcastic aplomb. "Gardening by Mick St John. Scorched earth policy, a specialty."

"Oh shut up." Mick laughed, and shifted back into Josef's space. Drawing his husband into a tight embrace, Mick could feel the both of them still trembling with residual adrenalin.

For a moment they were both tempted to fall to the ground where they stood, and rid themselves of their excess energy shouting their pleasure to the sky above. Mouths, and bodies pressed together. Needing to feel the comforting familiarity of one another. Josef's weight pressed against Mick's own a welcomed reassurance.

"Come on," Josef disentangled himself from Mick's embrace, rebuking Mick once again as he took another step back. "We need to head back. Roisin must be frantic by now."

_Roisin_. In Mick's haste to do away with their attacker, they had both forgotten about their niece, and her infant daughter back at the house.

A quick exchange of glances; faces couched in recognition. And then they both took off running.

"What the hell happened?" Roisin greeted her Uncles outside the front door with a terrified look on her face. Miriam cradled against her shoulder, screaming her tiny lungs out.

"Disgruntled former employee." Josef gathered Roisin, and Miriam up, and guided them inside. "Saw fit to throw a bomb of some description through my office window."

"Oh my god. Uncle Josef, are you…"

"…I'm fine." Josef held up a placating hand. His tone just a fraction short; he was beginning to lose patience having to repeat the same reassurance. Now that the initial danger had passed he was on edge. They all were.

"We should get away from the house for a while." Josef announced then. His mind already made up, and plans formulated. "I'll call Pierre. Get him to take care of things for me while we're out. I'll organise the guards to escort us. We'll head to the city."

Neither Roisin, nor Mick, were in any mood to argue.

"Are you enjoying that ice cream?" Josef raised a singular eyebrow at his niece. As he watched Roisin proceed to demolish a mound of chocolate covered white atop a honeyed cone, with her tongue.

"Mm-hmm." Roisin nodded, and grinned in between licks. "This is so good."

Josef offered his niece an indulgent smile, and handed her a napkin to wipe her mouth, and chin.

And then he was lowering his voice, and nudging Mick sitting alongside. "Damn what I wouldn't give to have you doing that on the end of my cock, right now."

Mick sprayed a mouthful of his Scotch across the table. "You know, I should be used to remarks like that from you, by now." He spluttered, and wheezed. Trying to catch an unnecessary breath.

"Is he being difficult again?" Roisin looked up from the last of her ice cream cone, and pointed a teasing finger toward Josef.

"Isn't he always?"

It was a rhetorical question. Josef reared back with feigned hurt, and pretended to look utterly mortified. Bottom lip quivering at Roisin, and Mick's burlesque, "What is this, let's gang up on Josef time? Next you'll be rounding up a torch bearing mob to hunt me down."

"Oh, you poor baby." Mick tutted in mock sympathy, and then he was drawing an arm around Josef's shoulder, and pulling him close. An affectionate kiss planted on the side of Josef's face. "You know we love you."

"Really, Mick?" Josef's down-turned expression was just shy of pouting, "I wonder sometimes."

"You idiot." Mick snorted a laugh, and shook his head.

"Takes one to know one." Josef parried in return.

Mick arched an incredulous eyebrow, and then started a slow, mocking handclap. "Oh well done. Great comeback."

"Yeah ok, you two." Roisin wadded up her serviette, and aimed it in her Uncle's general direction. "That's enough of the comedy double act."

And then Roisin was hurriedly grabbing for a tissue out of her bag, and holding it against her nose. Using thumb and forefinger to pinch off cartilage at the top.

"Crap."

"What's wrong?" Mick's expression shifted serious, along with Josef's. As the tissue in Roisin's hand soaked red.

"It's nothing." Roisin tried to wave a dismissive hand. "Just a blood nose. Can one of you take Miriam for me for a moment, please?"

"I'll take her." Josef shifted to sit next to Roisin, and carefully took the infant from her lap.

"I'm sorry." Mick's shirt clung to his back; trickles of sweat ran down his spine. The smell of blood was beginning to get to him. He could feel his mouth grow moist with increased saliva. "I need to…I haven't fed properly. The blood, it's…"

"Just go," Josef nodded his understanding, and waved Mick off. "We'll catch up to you."

Five minutes later, Roisin's bleeding was under control. And they were headed home.

"Oh Jesus, yeah. Fuck me." Mick growled and dug his fingers into the mattress beneath, as Josef slammed into him from behind.

They'd wasted no time on their return home. Deciding by unspoken, mutual agreement to make good on their earlier temptation in the forest.

They both welcomed, and needed the distraction. The events of the day weighed heavily on their minds.

"Oh shit. Yeah, that's it. Fuck me." Mick repeated his previous spurring, and ground himself back hard against Josef's groin. As Josef reached a hand underneath Mick's body, and fisted the length of Mick's cock.

And then it was all over, bar the furious sounds of Vampire release. Fangs sunk deep, and fluid flooding fingers, and passageways.

They lay together in silent repletion for a moment when they were both spent. Josef withdrawing to lie blissful alongside, arms around Mick's shoulders. Mick's head rested on the pillow next to his.

And then Mick was breaking the silence, and raising a concerned voice. "I'm worried about Roisin."

"Why?" Josef pressed his lips against the top of Mick's head. "Besides that blood nose she had today, what's been going on?"

Before Mick could answer, there was a knock at the bedroom door. Josef went to answer it.

"Speak of the devil, we were just…" Josef's words caught in his throat, as he opened the door to be greeted by the sight of his niece, steeped in crimson.

"Uncle Josef?" A blood soaked towel held against the lower half of Roisin's terrified face, did nothing to staunch the flow. "It won't stop."

"Jesus." Josef clapped a perturbed hand over his mouth, and then turned to Mick. "I think you'd better call an Ambulance."

* * *

"How is she?" Pierre swirled the glass of cognac in his hand, and then took a sip. Enjoying the spirituous burn of the liquid as it slid down his throat.

"They're keeping her in overnight. Mick's just gone to drop off a few items she says she'll need." Josef sat in the armchair next to Pierre Lamont, and stifled a series of yawns. Feeling drained, and heavy lidded from the day's events. "Something about her platelet count being abnormally low. They've ordered some more tests."

"A low platelet count?" Pierre turned, and raised a facetious eyebrow, "We can't have that. Ruins the taste entirely."

In spite of the seriousness of the situation, Josef laughed. It was a joke that only one Vampire would make to another. For a moment Josef felt relaxed.

"She was close to Auguste, you know." Pierre remarked casually, changing subtle direction in the conversation. "How did she take the news of his death?"

"Much better than I expected," there had been more to Pierre's question than was first apparent. Josef had picked up on that fact, almost immediately. He furrowed his brow, and chewed pensively on his lower lip for a moment. "Why, do you think it has something to do with why she's not well at the moment? A delayed grief reaction, is that it?"

"Perhaps" Pierre shrugged, and waved a nonchalant hand. He wasn't prepared to commit to an opinion either way. Clearly though, the idea was being entertained.

Josef contemplated the snifter of Cognac in his own hand for a moment, considering his response. And then Pierre was changing direction once again. Shifting the discussion onto more pressing matters.

"I see you signed death warrants for that group in South Africa that has been causing us so much trouble of late. And then promptly turned around, and ordered a stay of execution for all involved." Pierre tented his fingers thoughtfully against his chin, "I take it Mick's influence had something to do with your change of heart?"

Josef immediately shifted defensive. "He made a valid point, but it was my decision in the end."

Pierre chortled with amusement at Josef's indignation. "I have no doubt he did, and I'm sure it was."

"But?"

"But you're initial decision was the correct one." Pierre raised his glass in brief acknowledgement. "You would have read in previous reports the difficulties that group has been causing over the years. It's getting to the point where they're close to slipping up completely, and revealing our existence to the mortal world."

"Damn." Josef gritted his teeth, and exclaimed under his breath.

"Oh, you mean you didn't read the previous reports?" the look of guilt that had flickered briefly across Josef's features; had not gone unnoticed.

"I did skim through them." Josef sat up straight, haughty in his defensiveness, "I must have overlooked certain segments."

"Might I suggest then, Chancellor," Pierre arched a facetious eyebrow in Josef's direction, "that when you are required to attend to the Order's business, that you spend a little more time concentrating on the task at hand, and a little less allowing yourself to be distracted by that, admittedly, gorgeous husband of yours."

Josef drew breath to speak, but Pierre had already pre-empted the readied protest formed on Josef's lips. His voice shifted serious.

"I know how much you love him," Pierre held up a steadying hand, "but sometimes Mick's inclination to always try and, 'rise above the nature of the beast', as it were, does tend to cloud his judgment. Especially when it comes to matters that, as unfortunate as it may be, do sometimes necessitate the use of wholesale slaughter."

"I don't know about that," Josef challenged Pierre's assessment, "Mick didn't exactly hold back from burning my would be assassin to a crisp the other day."

"Well of course I never said anything about Mick not exactly being adverse to rushing into situations without thinking things through first." Pierre chuckled, "How many times is it he's almost gotten himself killed now?"

"Too many." Josef furrowed his brow, and twisted his mouth in an expression of reluctant agreement. And then drained the last of his Cognac.

"Would you like my advice?" From the sound of Pierre's voice, Josef had the feeling he was about to be given advice, whether he wanted it or not.

"I guess so." Josef shrugged, and toyed with the now empty glass in his hand. His actions belied by the eager 'Yes. Please' expression that had fallen across his features.

"Learn to rule with a Velvet Fist. Be forgiving, and moderate on the one hand, and utterly ruthless, and prepared to kill without hesitation, or remorse on the other. Oh and be prepared to start looking over your shoulder from now on." Pierre paused for a moment, and finished the remaining dregs of his own drink, before speaking again. "You know, Auguste hoped it would be you, he told me that once. If there was anyone worthy enough of assassinating him, and taking up his position, that person was you."

"Just when I was beginning to grudgingly respect the arrogant bastard," Josef remarked with a layer of defensive cynicism, and then lifted his voice, and sang tongue in cheek, "And then I go and spoil it all by doing something stupid like behead you."

Josef had been taken aback by Pierre's revelation. It was the last thing he had expected to hear. Pierre could see that. Despite the inappropriateness of Josef's humour, he laughed.

And then their late night Tête-à-tête was drawing to a close. Josef remarking that Mick would be home soon, as he led Pierre to the door, and bid him goodnight. And Pierre responding in kind, Katherine would be expecting him back by now, before offering his own farewell for the evening.

"Pierre," Josef called after Pierre's retreating form, a note of wry amusement etched across his features. "There's an opening for the position of Chief Advisor. It's yours if you want it."

Judging by the look on Josef's face, and the manner of his speech, it seemed clear this was a spur of the moment offer. Pierre wasn't even sure he wanted the position. Still, it would mean a higher ranking, more prestige, Katherine being afforded more opportunity to spend time with both her daughter, and Sire…

"Ok."

"You'll take it then?" Josef leant casually against the framework of the doorway, arms folded across his chest, and legs crossed at the ankles.

"Yes, I'll take it." Pierre smiled graciously, and then nodded his acceptance. "You'll need to think of someone to replace Frederick Islen as Secretary General in charge of the Order's Administration as well. I'm afraid he was one of the higher ranked Vampires we lost in those attacks preceding final battle."

Josef looked thoughtful. Fingers drummed against his lips for a moment. "Would you be willing to do both, if the roles were combined?"

"Sure," Pierre gave an open palmed shrug, a bewildered smile on his face. Now it was his turn to be taken aback. He hadn't expected, that by the end of the night, he would be offered not one, but two high-ranking positions as part of the Order's main cabinet.

"Great," Josef smiled; pleased with the apparent ease in which Pierre had accepted his new roles, despite his initial hesitation, and obvious surprise. "I've called a meeting in three days time. I'll make an official announcement then…"

The smile on Josef's face widened, turning into an unabashed grin,

"…Right before I make my major announcement."

Pierre didn't like the sound of that, not one bit. His brow furrowed with wary contemplation, wondering what Josef had managed to cook up this time, and just how much of a mess he was going to be expected to clean up in the resultant aftermath.

And then Josef was offering a final good night, and waving Pierre off. Closing the door behind him.

* * *

"How are you, sweetheart?" Katherine greeted her daughter with a tender note of concern, her hand smoothing her only child's hair as Mick tended to a wailing infant on the other side of the room.

"I'm fine, Mum." Roisin responded with her usual reassurance. "The amount of blood they've pumped into me recently I think I qualify as an honorary member of the undead by now."

"Well platelets aren't really the same as blood…" Katherine started to explain, not even sure if she were right, but willing to fill space with conversation.

Roisin began to mount an indignant reply. Her knowledge wasn't as limited as what her Mother thought. She had been speaking metaphorically. And then Mick was making her laugh out loud.

Hoisting Miriam aloft for all to see, he proudly displayed his handiwork at changing a diaper. "See, nothing to it."

Roisin snorted another laugh, and shook her head, before launching into mock applause. "It's a marvel of engineering, Uncle Mick. Well done."

"I didn't think Josef could make it today?" Katherine remarked to Mick with the raise of a tell tale eyebrow.

"Neither did I." Mick acknowledged Katherine with a knowing smile, and a deferential nod in return. "Seems he's here with us in spirit though."

"Being channeled even." Katherine remarked with affected nonchalance, as she pretended to casually inspect her nails.

Roisin tried to find voice to protest. Instead she lay back and watched the interaction between her Mother and Uncle with distant fondness. There was a veneer of normality about it, the lighthearted back and forth of their banter.

"Your Uncle Josef really is very sorry he couldn't make it. Pierre also…" Katherine was offering her apologies then. Expressing her own remorse on behalf of the absent.

"…Yeah," Mick interjected. Hands in pockets, and smile drawn on. "That business with the Order, Josef's first meeting as Chancellor…"

"Mum, Uncle Mick," Roisin looked to each in turn. Sometimes she wished they didn't tip toe around her, around the issue. All apologies, and reassurances, and meaningless words to fill empty spaces lest fear take hold. "It's ok, really."

The Doctors were waiting then. Another battery of tests would follow. All discussed in hushed tones, and a clucking of tongues. Later, one of them would be chosen to act as messenger. Laser penned notepad in hand, and a litany of medical terms to explain the situation to their patient.

Roisin knew, knew that her Uncle, and Mother, and everyone else knew also, despite their best efforts at drawn on smiles, and reassuring veneers of normality.

It was time to drop the masquerade.

"Mum, Uncle Mick," Roisin waited for each to meet her gaze. Her words chosen, and carefully measured then, "I'm really sick, aren't I?"

It was a rhetorical question, a quiet statement of fact. Mick, and Katherine exchanged pained glances before Mick responded.

"Yeah. Yeah we think you might be, kiddo."

Another world away, one that didn't involve antiseptic whiteness, and the sound of rubber soled heels on linoleum floors, a group of Vampires sat and greeted their new leader with toasts, and accolades.

Ever the humble showman, Josef pretended to accept each compliment in turn with an air of self-deprecating gratitude. Trying to hold modest court with a pompous grin that he never quite managed to hide.

The festivities out of the way, it was time to get down to the business end of things. Josef called the meeting to order. Assuring all who were present that matters would be kept brief.

The first item on the agenda was read out. Pierre Lamont was to take official title in the newly combined role of Chief Advisor and Secretary General in charge of Administration.

A smattering of applause in response, interspersed with a number of disappointed huffs, and scowling faces. Josef noted each reaction in turn. And then it was time for the main announcement.

A brazen note of determined pride etched across his features, Josef stood up. And calmly announced his intent to create a Vice Chancellor's position where one had not existed for more than five hundred years.

_"Don't let him say Mick's name. Dear God in heaven please don't let him say Mick's name."_ Pierre lowered his head, and silently prayed.

And then Josef was speaking the words Pierre dreaded hearing uttered from his lips.

"I shall be naming my husband, Mick St John, as Vice Chancellor of the Vampire Nation."

Vice Chancellor. By benefit of the rank and title bestowed upon him, Josef had just succeeded in making Mick the second most powerful Vampire in the entire Immortal world.

The response was as rapid, as it was predictable. An immediate hue and cry went up. Collective gasps, and calls of 'Never', 'Unthinkable', 'He's not an Elder, this is an insult to us all', could be clearly heard around the room. If the situation weren't so serious, Pierre would have found it amusing. Several particularly stalwart traditionalists looked as if they might need smelling salts rushed to hand at any given moment.

"Your Excellency," Pierre stood, and made a deferential bow, taking care to keep both his words, and manner as formal as possible in front of the others. "Begging a word with you in private. If I may, Sir."

With an equally formal show of acceptance, Josef called the meeting to a temporary close, and lead the two-man procession from the room. When they were a safe distance away, safe enough at least that any Vampire caring to listen in on their conversation would have to strain to hear their lowered speech, Pierre turned to Josef. His voice no less forceful for the level he was required to speak.

"Are you insane?" For a moment Pierre looked as if he might be entertaining that thought as a very real possibility. "You can't name Mick as Vice Chancellor, he's not an Elder. Do you have any idea the amount…?"

Josef discarded Pierre's concerns, before chance of completion, the line of his mouth drawn into a quick-witted smile. "Remind me again who's in charge around here?"

"That's not the point, Josef." Pierre refused to be drawn into acrimony. "Mick is not an elder. It is unprecedented, in the entire history of our Order that any non-Elder should be allowed to hold position or title in any form. Let alone Vice Chancellor."

"And what about me?" Josef calmly challenged then. "Was I not also 'unprecedented' as you put it."

"Yes, but…"

"…And if Mick had been the one to kill Auguste, and not me. What then?"

The look on Pierre's face told Josef that point had never been considered.

"I…well, I suppose…I don't…" Pierre uncharacteristically stumbled over his own words.

"You can't answer that, can you?" Josef's confidence grew, as Pierre's seemed to disappear in a smoke haze of traditions that couldn't be challenged. Except when it was quite clear they could. And therein lay the rub.

"No, I can't." Pierre was forced to admit. And then he was listening to Josef lay down the law.

"I will not be challenged, or dissuaded on this," Josef marked his words with a determined finger. "Mick gave up nearly ten years of his life to care for me when I just happened to fall out the crazy tree, and managed to hit every branch on the way down. I've seen the reports, all of them. I can't even begin to comprehend what he went through during that time. For that alone, Mick deserves to be rewarded."

"But he's not…" Pierre made one last, weak attempt at mounting a protest. His heart wasn't in it. "Ok," he was nodding his agreement then. Josef had made a good enough case. Pierre couldn't argue any further. "Just…"

"…What?"

"Let me take care of them inside, ok? Let me handle it. I know what to say."

"You can say whatever you damn well please," Josef offered up a brusque smile, tempered only by the facetious raise of one eyebrow, "so long as my husband is Vice Chancellor by the end of the day."

"Oh he will be." Pierre returned Josef's burlesque with a sweeping bow of mockery, "Your Excellency."

* * *

"You did what?" Mick stared at Josef the following morning, and then blinked – once, twice. He'd been riding the buzz of a post-orgasmic high, when Josef had seen fit to announce,

"By the way, I made you Vice Chancellor."

"I'm sorry, can you repeat that." Mick shook his head, and blinked again. As if the act of opening, and closing his eyes in rapid-fire succession could somehow make the information register.

"I made you Vice Chancellor." Propped up onto one shoulder, Josef repeated the announcement. Beaming with unabashed pride, as he skipped fingers along Mick's abdomen, and punctuated the end of his sentence with an affectionate tap to Mick's nose.

"Christ, Josef." Mick sat up, and scrubbed frustrated hands over his face. "Please tell me you're joking. What are you trying to do, get me killed? The Order's not going to accept me as Vice Chancellor. I'm not even…

"…Actually they already have." Josef shrugged, and rolled onto his back. One arm tucked casually behind his head, his fingers playing a nonchalant melody along Mick's spine.

"Cut it out," Mick shot Josef a disapproving look. "This is serious. One of them threw a bomb into your office…"

"…Hand grenade, Mick," Josef corrected, "it was a hand grenade. They found traces of shrapnel cleaning up, remember?"

"Yeah, whatever," Mick rolled his eyes, and waved a dismissive hand. He was rapidly losing patience with Josef's lack of concern. "What exactly do you think they'll do to me if I'm Vice Chancellor? You don't think that might just get up their noses a bit?"

"Well they weren't too happy about it at first," Josef stifled a laugh at the memory of the Order's elite falling all over themselves. And then his lips were working along the areas where his fingers had been. "Pierre managed to talk them around."

"How?" Mick raised a suspicious eyebrow. He still wasn't entirely sure he trusted Josef's judgment at that point.

"He told them it was a gift for Roisin, amongst other things." Josef slipped a hand around Mick's waist, and took hold of Mick's cock. Smiling to himself as he heard Mick bite back a groan of approval. This time at least, Mick didn't seem as keen to knock back Josef's advances.

"What, and they folded? Just like that?" Mick bit back another groan, and arched into the session of Josef's hand stroking along his length. An involuntary growl curled from the back of his throat. Part pleasure, part frustration. He was supposed to be mad at Josef, instead his body betrayed him.

Given the circumstances, Mick felt at least some protest was in order.

"I swear, you drive me nuts sometimes."

"Ditto." Josef drew an arm around Mick's shoulder, and guided him down to the mattress below. "And yes, they folded. Just like that." A moment of amusement, followed by a punctuating click of his thumb and forefinger, and then Josef was reaching for the tube of lubricant on the cabinet next to the bed. "It seems the Vampire nation is rather enamoured with our darling Roisin."

Josef let his thoughts drift. Back to the moment Pierre had stood in front of the rank and file members of the Order, and implored them to accept Mick as Vice Chancellor. Citing Mick's proven loyalty. Speaking of those nine odd years he had remained steadfast, caring for a lover gone insane, caring for the man the man they each now addressed as Chancellor. Never wavering, no thoughts of giving up, surely when the chips were down this was a man to have in your corner Why it was only recently that they had fought alongside one another. Mick had held his own in battle, fighting side by side with Vampires more than twice is age. Proving himself a worthy swordsman, no doubt trained by one of the best.

By the time Pierre had gotten around to mentioning Roisin's name, Josef was certain the Order was not only prepared to accept Mick as Vice Chancellor, they might very well be considering putting him up for canonisation. The implication that Mick's appointment was to be seen as a gift for Roisin - she who had played a paramount part in assuring the Vampire nation was rid of one it's foremost enemies – had been the final glue by which agreement was held.

An awed hush had fallen over the assembly, as Pierre had made his final plea. And then thunderous applause, and cheers of congratulations had followed a brief pause. It had been a far cry from the Order's initial reaction. There was no doubt about it. Pierre Lamont was a master Orator.

Mick couldn't help but note the pride in Josef's voice, despite his attempt at nonchalance. And then he was letting his eyes fall shut, fangs extended, another growl of approval eliciting from parted lips.

"Still driving you nuts?" Josef returned to the present, and arched a pointed eyebrow. Grinning as he pressed two fingers up into Mick's passage, and curled them against Mick's prostate.

Josef's lips against his own swallowed Mick's reply.

"You deserve this promotion, Mick," Josef broke the kiss a few moments later. "All those years you took care of me. To hell with protocol, and tradition."

"You can't just drag the Order kicking and screaming into the modern age." Mick's speech began to fall ragged, the words coming out in breathless staccato.

For a moment Josef was tempted to respond with a flippant, "Watch me." Instead he capitulated to Mick's wisdom in the matter.  
"I know," Josef brushed strands of hair from Mick's forehead, and then shifted position slightly, affording himself a better view of Mick's face. He loved to watch the changes in Mick's expression, delighting in the way Mick panted, and grimaced, lips drawn back, revealing sharpened canines. Josef took another moment to drink in the display before him. And then he was repeating his acquiesce, and adding further reassurances. "I know, Mick. Ok? Trust me. I have no intention of dragging anyone, anywhere."

"Why don't I believe you?" Mick furrowed his brow, and drew the line of his mouth into a pointed smirk. And then he was arching upwards, gasping out another round of approval as he felt Josef withdraw just enough to add a third finger.

"I don't know, Mick," Josef snorted a brief laugh, "why don't you believe me?"

"Gee, Josef, I can't possibly think. Might have something to do with the fact that you've already gone ahead and made me Vice Chancellor." Mick rolled his eyes, and managed to stammer wryly.

"We should be celebrating your good fortune." Josef ignored Mick's chagrin, and withdrew his fingers completely then, intent on replacing them with his cock. "Get on your hands and knees."

Bending his lips towards Mick's ear, Josef whispered a heated instruction. A myriad of questions still ran through Mick's mind. For now though it seemed discussions had drawn to a close.

"We still need to talk about this, Josef," Mick wouldn't be so easily dissuaded. "What if…"

"…Mick, nothing is going to happen," Josef interjected; as he urged Mick into position, "I won't let it."

"Oh, and you let that Vamp throw a grenade into your office did you? I had no idea Vampires could be so considerate. What'd he do, ask your permission?" Mick scoffed back over his shoulder, still not willing to let matters go.

"Mick?" Josef slicked his length with a hurried application of more lube.

"What?"

"Can we talk about this later, please?"

_Later? When later, Josef?_ Mick thought. Out loud he responded with a hastily muttered, "Yeah, alright," and tried to concentrate on the sensation of Josef penetrating his space.

"You worry too much." Josef nuzzled, and purred against the back of Mick's neck.

"I – Oh Jesus, Fuck" Mick's formed reply was cut short when Josef shifted upright, his hand braced against Mick's shoulder, and completed the act of penetration with one quick, hard thrust forward. He waited for Josef to pause at the hilt, giving him time to adjust to the sudden assault, and then spoke again. "I have to worry. This is a dangerous time for us…"

"…Not so dangerous that we can't still enjoy the finer things in life." Josef bent forward. His torso pressed against Mick's back. An arm cradled around Mick's chest, held him steady.

"No, but …Shit" Again Mick found his response swallowed by a haze of pleasure. Josef was using his free hand to explore Mick's body, stroking, caressing - his fingers in Mick's mouth. Listening to the sound of Mick whimpering as he sucked on those digits.

Mick gave up trying to converse then. Charting a mental note marked 'later', he began riding back against Josef's thrusts. Until it seemed he was doing most of the work.

"Having fun?" Josef tittered at Mick's apparent onset of enthusiasm, and then changed position slightly, allowing Mick more leverage.

"Oh shut up." Mick admonished Josef's burlesque, and snaked a hand behind his neck, drawing Josef into an awkward kiss. Josef's lips meshed against Mick's own, fangs scraping against fangs. Each growling unto the other, as they tried to keep pace with the moment.

"I love you," Josef picked up the conversation near to where they had left off, the words fanning hot against the side of Mick's neck. A hand on Mick's hip guided his movements. "You're my husband. Tell me why I wouldn't want you by my side in all of this. Tell me why you shouldn't be considered my equal."

"Because I'm not your equal," Josef slowed, affording Mick the opportunity to speak. "You're almost double my age. You're stronger than me, faster than me, and you've been a Vampire for a lot longer than I have. You're an elder, I'm not."

"Is that the bottom line?" Another hand caressing the angle of Mick's hip, Josef began stepping things up again.

"For the Order? Yeah I'd say so."

"Well then things need to change."

Fingers digging into the cushion of the mattress, Mick found himself spurred face forward. Clinging to the bed sheets, he tried to match pace, tried to ride back just as hard as he was being ridden. Tried not to become mired in the tangled mess of satin as Josef drove into him.

"It's my time now. It's our time, Mick," Josef was whispering to Mick then, his fingers encircling Mick's cock, jerking a frenetic rhythm along its length. "We're in charge of it all. We could set this world on fire if we wanted."

"And burn ourselves to a cinder in the process." Mick managed a last, coherent response, before he flew apart in Josef's arms. Moments later, Josef stepped off the edge, and joined him. Fangs sunk deep into soft flesh, and crunched against bone. The two of them were lost in a steady haze, fluid pumping into, and over one another.

"Damn." Mick waited for his orgasm to be spent, before collapsing in satisfied repose.

"That says it all really, doesn't it?" Josef quipped, and then chuckled as he withdrew to join Mick alongside.

They'd no sooner settled in comfortable with one another, the top of Mick's head nuzzled against the side of Josef's chin, Josef's arms drawn around Mick's shoulders, and they were being interrupted by the sound of insistent tapping.

"Sir?" The voice behind the door belonged to Josef's secretary on-call. Thanks to Pierre Lamont's insistence Josef had staff now. A whole entourage, designed to make life easier, and drive him to distraction in the process. "Sir, the hospital phoned, and…"

The man found himself face to face with his employer then. As Josef stormed forth in a cloud of annoyance, flung open the bedroom door just wide enough for his nakedness not to show, and issued a singular, clip toned command.

"Shoo!"

"My apologies for the interruption, your excellency," Josef's secretary on-call didn't miss a beat. Remaining professional in his duties, as he cleared his throat, and repeated his prior words. "The hospital phoned. Ms O'Dwyer's test results are in. They've requested her family join her."

Josef ran a steadying hand over his face, and then nodded his understanding.

"Would you like me to have a car brought 'round for you, Sir?" Josef heard the man ask him then, his English accent rounding out the vowels.  
_  
__Yes, very good Jeeves, or Wooster, or –_

"I'm sorry, what did you say your name was again?" Josef furrowed his brow, and waited for the man to reply.

"It's Murray, Sir."

"Murray," Josef repeated the man's name, and forced an impatient smile. "A car won't be necessary, I'll drive myself."

"And Mr St John, -?"

"- Can sit on the gear stick and flex," Josef rapid fire witted. "What do you think?"

"Sounds a tad impractical, if you don't mind me saying so, Sir."

"Which is why they invented passenger seats." At that point, Josef was sure he was being wound up. Mick could be heard in the background, collapsing in gales of laughter.

Josef allowed Murray his moment of stoic faced amusement, flecks of spittle gathering at the corners of the man's mouth as he sputtered in silent guffaw.

And then Josef was dismissing Murray from his sight, and turning back towards Mick.

"That was the hospital, apparently - "

" - Yeah, I know," the time for hilarity was over. Mick was already halfway to being dressed. "I heard." Pulling a sweater over his head, Mick sat down, and hastily slipped on socks and shoes. "You ok?"

Josef felt Mick reach for his hand in the silence of the room then. He welcomed the gesture. A small moment of comfort, offered, and received in turn.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

Josef was lying through his teeth. Mick saw straight through the charade. He had a feeling Josef knew they would eventually have to face something outside their control. No matter how much money, or power was thrown.

Mortality was a great equaliser; Mick had always admired that point of humanity. Not that he ever shared that sentiment with Josef.  
_  
__"There's always Immortality."_

Mick pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind. And then Josef was letting go of Mick's hand, and completing the task of getting himself redressed

"You nearly ready to go?"

Josef looked at Mick, standing in front of him then. Suit attired, and arm extended, an open hand proffered. For a brief moment Mick's mind was cast back to an Irish November night.  
_  
__"Just be with me, always."_

"Sure," Mick accepted Josef's hand, and allowed Josef to pull him to his feet. "I'm ready when you are."

* * *

"T cell prolymphocytic leukemia," Mick tested the words in his mind, noting how quickly they ran off the tip of his tongue with ease, the more he repeated those words.  
_  
__T cell pro-lympho-cytic leu-kemia_

A Doctor Jaroslav had just delivered the news. Citing blood counts, and serum immunogloblin levels, and HLTV-1 serologies, he had ended his speech with three simple words.

"I'm terribly sorry."

The bombshell reverberated around the room. Mick dampened back his own emotions, and glanced around at those present, noting their reactions in turn. Roisin herself, eyes fixed straight ahead, trying her best to look stoic, even as the colour drained from her face. Her Mother, and Pierre alongside. A balled up tissue clutched in Katherine's hand, as she dabbed at the flood of tears wetting her cheeks.

And then there was Josef. Seated beside Mick, he held a Rolodex in his hand, and nonchalantly flicked its plastic cardholders back and forth, his expression marked indifferent.

"Stop it." Mick gritted his teeth, and snatched the Rolodex from Josef's hand, replacing it on the table in front of them.

Josef rolled his eyes, and then forced a smile of weary indulgence, a capitulating hand waved through the air in front of him. He looked like a man who had already made up his mind not to care.

At that moment Mick was glad of Katherine's grief. It appeared to be blocking her from responding to Josef's apparent callousness. Had she realised, Mick felt certain Katherine's hands would have been wrapped around Josef's throat, attempting to throttle the immortality out of him. Mick wasn't entirely sure he wasn't about to do the honours for her.

Expression fallen incredulous, Mick opened his mouth, and drew breath to speak, intent on further admonishment.

"Mr Kostan," Doctor Jaroslav preempted. "Please, there is no right or wrong way to react. I'm sure your husband…"

It took Mick a few moments to realise he was the one being addressed. "It's St John," he corrected.

"I'm sorry, Mr," Doctor Jaroslav paused to check over his notes, "St John. My secretary must have made a mistake with the…"

"…We never did get around to working out what to do about our names, did we?" Josef interjected, seeming lost in contemplation. "Kostan-St John," Josef turned to Mick then, a wistful smile rendered across his features. "Has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"

Mick's incredulousness shifted to white-hot rage. Sensing her Uncle's rancour, Roisin reached out, and laid a steadying hand on Mick's shoulder. Katherine could be heard quietly sobbing in the background.

"Uncle Mick, it's ok. We all just need some time to process."

But it wasn't ok. It was very far from ok. Roisin shouldn't be the one comforting him. Roisin shouldn't be the one to reassure him. Roisin shouldn't…

In a blaze of anger, Mick shrugged his niece off. And then he was on his feet, heel turned, and storming out of the room.

"That went well." Josef remarked dryly, as he watched after Mick's retreating form.

Before anyone had a chance to respond, Josef was snapping his fingers, and gesturing for Pierre to go after Mick. And then he turned to Doctor Jarasolav, another smile set in place, polite this time. "Would you excuse us for a moment, I'd like a word with my family. Alone."

"By all means, take your time." A reassuring word offered in turn, Doctor Jaroslav left the room. He was glad of the chance to slip away. Silently thanking whatever Gods were listening for the temporary reprieve. Delivering such news was never easy.  
Even hidden behind the clinical divide of medical speak, and slow, measured tones of voice.

Pierre didn't budge, drawing a protective arm tighter around Katherine's shoulder.

"That wasn't a suggestion." Josef arched a pointed eyebrow, and waited for Pierre to respond to his command.

A moments hesitation, and then Pierre was nodding a curt understanding, and taking his leave.

It was just the three of them then, Josef, Katherine, and Roisin. Katherine adjusted her position, drawing herself more upright. Tears, and emotion swallowed back. Josef had the feeling she was trying her best not to respond to his presence. Not to cause a scene, for her daughter's sake.

"It'll be ok." Josef moved closer, and reached for Roisin's hand. "I don't know what everyone's so up in arms about. We can manage this."

"Of course we can." Roisin returned her Uncle's gesture, affecting an expression of confidence. Before Josef had a chance to ponder whether that confidence was genuine, or not, Pierre had reappeared. With a sullen faced Mick in tow.

"Has everybody gone completely insane?" Josef waited for Mick, and Pierre to retake their seats, noting Mick's body angled away from his, and then threw up his hands in exasperation. "Have you all forgotten who we are? What we are?"

Josef looked to each person gathered, in turn. It was Roisin who responded first.

"No."

"What do you mean, no?" For the first time since they had sat down together, cracks were beginning to appear in Josef's façade.

"No," Roisin gave a simple shrug, "N-o, a two letter word meaning refusal…"

"I know what the word means -"

" – I won't become a Vampire, Uncle Josef," Roisin interrupted her Uncle's indignation, "you know that. I told you I wouldn't."

"Yes," Josef drew the line of his mouth into a patronising smile, "when you were twelve."

"Just turn everybody into a Vampire" Mick cut in then, his reproach evident. "That's your answer to everything, isn't it, Josef?"

"I though it was 'kill everyone', Mick." Josef fired back with the facetious raise of an eyebrow.

"Same difference."

"Oh," Josef's brow furrowed in question, "we're not alive then?"

"This isn't living, Josef," Mick gestured in exasperation. "This isn't life. Not-"

Before Mick had a chance to finish, Josef interjected, his expression couched in upset. "So eighty years with me has been no life for you then has it, Mick?" With a toss of his head, Josef rounded off his sentence with a sharply delivered, "Well fuck you very much."

'Alright, enough!" Roisin spoke up, before anyone else had a chance to respond. "This is my decision. It's my life."

"And you won't have a life, if one of us doesn't turn you."

"You don't know that, Uncle Josef." Roisin's voice quieted. "I think it's time we called Doctor Jaroslav back in, and listen to what he has to say."

For the next hour they sat in silence, eyes focused on the man lecturing in front, trying to take in the bombardment of information they were flooded with. The cancer was rare, and highly aggressive. Average life expectancy was measured in a matter of months, to a few small years, less than forty percent of patients lived past eight. Nevertheless, despite the doom and gloom statistics, they did represent a significant improvement in outcome. Fifty years ago, the numbers weren't near as high.

"I thought you guys had practically cured cancer by now?" Josef inspected his fingernails, and affected a weary look.

"We've made significant advances in all areas of treatment, and research," again that same measured tone of voice, a repeat use of the word 'significant', as if that made a difference somehow. "It takes money though, a lot of money. Funding hasn't been as forthcoming for us. No bald headed kids to tug at the heartstrings I'm afraid."

Josef surmised those last words were meant to be an attempt at observational humour, instead they came out spoken with a bitter edge. "How much?" He asked.

"How much, what?"

"How much money? How much to affect a successful treatment for my niece."

"It doesn't work that way, Mr Kostan."

"And how does it work then, Doctor?"

Doctor Jaroslav was looking at him now, with that same pitying expression Josef was sure he reserved for those trying to process grief. Josef wondered what stage he was supposed to be at, bargaining perhaps?

"What about treatment?" Mick placed a stilling hand on Josef's arm.

"If you have the money," Doctor Jaroslav smiled, and tented his fingers against his lips, "I'd recommend you get her to Los Angeles. Cedars Sinai has the most advanced treatment program for this type of cancer, in the world."

"Full circle." Katherine spoke finally. Her voice heavy in the relative quiet of the room, as she drew an arm around her daughter's shoulders, and fought to maintain a brave front.

"I'll make travel arrangements first thing." Josef acknowledged Katherine's sentiment, and then turned to the others. "It looks like we're going home."


	10. Chapter 9

"I didn't mean it like that. Josef? Christ." Mick cursed under his breath, as he followed Josef's whirlwind of annoyance into the kitchen.

The two of them had been arguing since they'd left the hospital, a blanket-wrapped Miriam in tow. Roisin and Katherine had requested time alone. Under the circumstances, they'd only been too happy to oblige a babysitting request. Still it didn't stop Josef from expressing his continued contempt for Mick's prior words.

_This isn't life. This isn't living._

"Josef, come on. Will you let me explain, please?" Mick shifted the gurgling infant up to his shoulder, and made another attempt to placate his husband's chagrin.

Ignoring Mick's pleas Josef pushed past, and fetched a bottle of AB negative from the fridge. Noisily opening cupboard doors, and clinking glass against tile, Josef poured himself a drink, and pointedly refused to offer Mick one of his own.

"Josef?"

"Do what you like, Mick. I'm going to sleep." A clipped tone note of haughtiness in his voice; Josef waved a singular, dismissive hand, and prepared to take his leave. Not before crossing the floor to pluck the child from Mick's arms.

"You can't take her - " Mick didn't get a chance to finish his sentence. Josef was already walking away.

" - I don't trust you. You might decide life's not worth living for humans too." Josef took one last bite over his shoulder.

Mick wanted to follow after Josef then, wanted to grab him, and shout he was being ridiculous. Instead he stood forlorn as he watched after Josef's retreating form. For all Josef's hyperbole, Mick could tell his feelings were hurt.

"_And I didn't mean it like…Shit_." A pause to think, another self-admonishing curse kept silent this time.

Moments later Josef heard the dull thud of axe on timber, as Mick vented his frustration on the woodpile outside.

An hour or more had gone by, Mick leant against the framework of their bedroom door now, and smiled at the scene in front of him. Miriam lay on Josef's chest, hands bunching, and little mouth cooing spittle kisses; one of Josef's hands protectively cradled the infant's back as he slept. The near five centuries old blood-drinker, and his tiny mortal charge, the vision made all the more tender for its incongruousness.

Reality broke through as Josef stirred, and then awoke.

"What?" Josef regarded Mick with a dark look, his previous anger not yet dissipated.  
"Nothing, I…" Mick fumbled for a response. And then he brightened somewhat awkwardly, and pointed to the sleeping child. "You want me to take her?"

Josef hesitated, and then nodded his acquiesce.

Mick returned a few moments later, and hovered uncertain in the doorway, hands in pockets, shifting nervously from one foot to the other.

"Oh for God sake. Try not to have a nervous breakdown on my account, Mick." Josef took pity on Mick's hangdog expression then, and beckoned him over.

The weight of the mattress shifted as Mick clambered onto the bed.

"You sure know how to deliver a stinging blow when you want." Josef huffed, and rolled his eyes with lingering annoyance as Mick settled a contrite distance away from him. And then Josef's expression pained. "Why, Mick? After eighty years you're not happy with the life we have, is that it?"

"No…I mean, yes…I mean," Mick paused to gather his thoughts, "of course I am. I didn't mean for what I said to come out the way it did."

"Oh," Josef folded his arms across his chest, his own manner shifting to a defensive challenge, "then how did you mean it, exactly? Because I'm sure I heard what you said."

"You didn't let me finish."

"Then finish now."

"I was going to say, 'not from a mortal's point of view'." Mick took another moment to quell his own rising impatience. And then he was inching closer, trying to capture Josef's attention with the pointed imploration of his hand. "Look, we live on blood, we can't spend too long out in the daylight, we sleep in freezers, and technically we're undead, it might be living to us, but look at it from a human's point of view. If you were given the choice to become a Vampire, when you were still human, would you have taken it? Knowing that it meant forgoing sunshine, having to give up food, watching your loved ones die, no longer being a part of humanity?"

"Mick, I was a Priest," Josef forced a patient smile, "If I'd know what Gregor was, I probably would have tossed holy water over him, and tried to have him burned at the stake."

"Ok, so you're not a good example," Mick began to wave a dismissive hand, and then stopped, his brow furrowed with genuine curiosity. "Wait, you burned people at the stake?"

"Well, not personally I didn't…"

"…But?"

"I was a member of the Order of Preachers, in the early part of 17th century. Let's just say, I was aware of the practice. And don't change the subject." Josef admonished Mick with a bristled tone.

"Yeah, okay," reluctantly Mick shifted the topic back to matters hand. "My point still stands though. If either one of us were given the choice to be turned, there's no guarantee we would have accepted. So why would it be any different for Roisin."

"Roisin's grown up with Vampires, we're her family, we're all she's ever known."

"But she's still mortal, Josef."

"And she won't be mortal for long, unless one of us turns her. Or have you forgotten, she's dying."

Therein lay the point of Josef's rancour. Roisin was dying. Deep down Josef knew Mick was right; he just couldn't fathom anyone willingly choosing death over any chance at life. Especially not when that anyone just happened to be his own blood relation.

"No, I haven't forgotten," Mick reached out a hand, and tentatively caressed the line of Josef's jaw, "but dying is a part of the human experience. Maybe Roisin just accepts that without the certainty of death, mortals wouldn't have a reason to live. It's the act of dying that spurs people on to life, to want to be part of the here, and now, to enjoy the time they do have."

"My husband, the Philosopher." Josef snorted a weak laugh, and slowly began to relent, his own fingers interlaced with Mick's. Not before mounting one last ditch protest. "It still doesn't change the basic fact."

"I know." Mick nodded his understanding, and then caught the look on Josef's face. "Don't even think about turning her against her will, Josef. Because if I don't stop you, Katherine will."

"So we're supposed to just sit back, and watch her die, is that it?"

"No," Mick bought Josef's fingers up to his lips, and placed a quick kiss, "we get her on a plane to Los Angeles first thing, and we get her the best medical treatment money can buy."

"So we get to watch her being tortured, and suffering first; and then she dies." Josef rolled his eyes in helpless frustration, "Great."

Mick's brow scrunched with puzzlement this time, "Modern medicine isn't some chamber of horrors, Josef. What are you expecting, the Spanish Inquisition?"

"Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition, Mick."

"Very funny."

A shared moment of laughter, and then Mick was shifting into Josef's space, and drawing Josef into his. "It'll be ok."

"No, it won't," Josef allowed himself to be pulled into Mick's embrace, feeling the weight of Mick's body pressed against his own, "but for the remainder of tonight, I'm willing to at least pretend."

"I love you."

For a brief moment Josef was tempted to admonish Mick again for his previous words, this time in good nature. Instead he smiled, and gave an easy, single word response.

"Ditto."

"Monty Python," Roisin smiled at the unwrapped laser cartridge in her hand, "I used to love this show when I was a kid."

"I know, I remember," Josef rolled his eyes, and pretended to force a weary smile. "You damn near drove us insane doing those idiot walks."

"Silly walks, Uncle Josef." Roisin corrected quietly, as she turned the memories of her childhood over, and began to read the back cover.

"Whatever."

Roisin smiled at her Uncle's burlesque, looking up briefly to watch the way he indignantly adjusted the sleeves of his suit coat. Over in the corner of the room, Miriam stretched, and began to wail. Katherine, seated nearby, observing the interaction between her daughter and Sire, quickly moved to attend to her infant Grandchild.

"Do you want me to…?"

"…No, Mum it's ok, I've got it. She probably needs to be fed."

Katherine watched as her daughter struggled out of bed, past the whirling, flashing array of medical equipment. They'd arrived in Los Angeles less than a week ago, Josef having wasted no time purchasing a suitable property, and decking it out with every conceivable hospital item that opened, and shut, much to Roisin's chagrin. "I don't want to be treated like an invalid', she had protested, on more than one occasion.

"It doesn't have to be this way." Josef reminded his niece yet again, as he too watched her weakened form struggling across to the bottle steriliser, grimly determined. Breast-feeding was no longer an option, not with the medications now being pumped into her blood stream. It seemed bitter irony sometimes, that after fighting so hard to form any sort of bond with her child, Roisin would be robbed of the one act that would see the two of them bought closest.

"Don't start, Uncle Josef." Roisin gritted her teeth, and flashed her Uncle a clear warning look.

"What's so damn great about being human anyway?" Josef snapped in frustration.

"It's what I am, Uncle Josef," a prepared bottle of formula in hand, Roisin settled down to the task of feeding her infant daughter, "that's all you need to know."

Josef's planned response was interrupted by the arrival of Pierre. Stepping into the room with all the airs his position afforded, Pierre wasted no time running through a checklist of meetings Josef was due to attend that day. Aside from a brief pause to greet his wife with an affectionate kiss, and ruffle his stepdaughter's hair, the man was all business. Josef noted Katherine didn't seem to mind, and again noted to himself that one of these days he really did have to make more of an effort to get to know the man outside the regular 9-5.

"Lance will have to wait." Josef took the appointment list from Pierre's hands, and noted names and times. "I'm meeting Mick at his old apartment. I won't be available."

The trip down memory lane had been Roisin's idea. She wanted to see where her Uncles had lived all those years ago, where it had all started. They'd spent the day exploring Josef's past, visiting his old office, the Penthouse where he had once resided. Now it was Mick's turn.

"Lance won't like to be kept waiting, Josef." Pierre gave a pointed reminder. Outside of the Order themselves, Lance and his kind represented one of the most powerful groups in all the Vampire Nation. Even Auguste had maintained a politely deferential relationship with the man, holding firm to the belief that you kept your friends close, and your potential enemies even closer.

"Really?" Josef arched a singular eyebrow to indicate he really didn't give two hoots about Lance's patience, or the straining thereof. For the first time in eighty odd years, Mick was returning to the one place that held more memories for him than any other. It was bound to stir up old wounds, and Josef intended to be by Mick's side when the inevitable happened. Besides, he had a feeling Lance would be playing games, sizing up the new recruit so to speak. Josef intended to set the rules right from the start.

"You're playing a dangerous game, your excellency." Pierre switched to Romany then, a language he knew neither Katherine nor Roisin would understand.

"Perhaps." Another singularly raised eyebrow, a laissez fair shrug of his shoulders, and then Josef was offering his goodbyes to the room, and preparing to take his leave.

"What time are you expected back?" Pierre called after Josef's retreating form, needing to know what to inform Lance upon his arrival.

"I'll be back when I get back. Take care of things for me until then." Josef replied waving a dismissive hand over his shoulders. For now he had more pressing matters to attend to.

"How are you feeling?" Josef approached Mick from behind, standing in the middle of what had once been his L.A home. The place was empty now, but no less recognisable.

"I don't know." Mick welcomed Josef's arms wrapped around his waist, the feel of Josef's weight pressed against his back. "I'm still processing."

Josef said nothing, merely drew his arms tighter around Mick's body. Mick's gaze tracked the expanse of the room, pausing every now and then to take in a small detail, the place where his bookshelf had once stood, the area where his couch had been. Memories evoked, long nights spent extolling the virtues of post modernist rock with Beth sitting rapt eager by his side, coming home to find Josef waiting, glass of blood already poured, indignantly demanding to know what had taken him so long.

_Memories, so many memories…_

"I think I need to sit down." Mick suddenly felt very unsteady on his feet. And then his gaze landed on the bench where it had all begun. Josef, their marriage, the opportunity to welcome Katherine, Roisin and now Miriam into their lives, funny how such a rich tapestry of life could be condensed into one singular moment. For a moment Mick wondered what might have been had that one event never taken place? Wondered, and then reminded himself that he would never know. The outcome may have been the same; only the journey would have been different.

"When you turned me," disengaging himself from Josef's embrace, Mick walked over to the bench, and ran an experimental finger across its surface, "did you want me then, in that moment I mean?"

For one maddening moment a vision of Mick doing an Austin Powers impersonation flashed through Josef's mind.

_"Did I make you horny baby?"_

He decided right then and there that might at least earn Mick a fractured skull, maybe a matching broken jaw to boot. And then he was bent double, dissolving into fits of laughter.

"Ok," Mick raised a suspicious eyebrow at Josef's sudden mirth, "care to share what's so funny?"

"Nothing," Josef took a moment to bring himself back under control, and then approached Mick with arms outstretched, offering contrition, another embrace at the ready. He hadn't really meant to laugh, not when Mick was so clearly confronted with a storehouse of memories, and turmoil. "It was nothing, really. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…Yes I wanted to fuck you at the time. And you moaning in my ear the way you did, didn't help. Thankfully I do know a little something of restraint. Besides, arousal wasn't exactly my primary emotion at the time, Mick."

"Then what was?"

"Fear, mostly." Josef's hand shifted to the back of Mick's head rested atop his shoulder, his finger playing with the tendrils of hair he found there. "I was terrified something was going to go wrong, that you'd end up like Sarah, or worse that it would work and our relationship would be irrevocably altered for the worse. Either way I stood to lose you. But we've been through all this before Mick."

Josef was right; they'd discussed this ad nauseum - the what ifs, and wherefores, back when Mick had been struggling to understand their relationship in those early months, and years. They'd been over, and over this a hundred different ways. And still the same conclusion had been reached time immemorial.

_Neither one of us really knows what would might have happened if circumstance had been different, but it's a reasonable call to expect the outcome would probably have remained the same._

"I did love you back then, Josef." Mick spoke up after a moment's silence, echoing a shared thought. "I'm just not sure…"

"…If you were _in_ love with me. I know, Mick." There was no recrimination in Josef's voice, just a statement of facts already explored.

"I must have been though, why else would things have progressed the way they did. I could have just waited for the effect of you re-turning me to wear off, only…"

"Mick." Josef interrupted the start of Mick's circular logic, before Mick had a chance to drive himself into the ground chasing his own tail of thought.

"I know," Mick gave a reluctant nod of admittance, "we've been through this before."

"And we've always reached the same conclusion. I don't know, and you don't either. Unless of course you want to pretend the last eighty years never happened, and give our relationship a definitive starting point? One that neither of us can argue with."

Josef's fingers skimming beneath the waistband of Mick's jeans were a clear invitation then.

"No." Mick gently rebuked Josef's advances. "This place has enough memories as it is, I don't want to add anymore."

"Fair enough." Josef took a step back then, and extended his hand for Mick to take. "Have you seen all you wanted?"

Mick took one last look around, and then accepted Josef's proffered hand in his. "Yeah, I have."

"Roisin's going to ask you about Beth when you bring her through here," Josef reminded, as he began to lead Mick toward the door. "Do you know what you're going to tell her?"

"The truth, Josef. What else?"

Josef snorted a wry laugh at Mick's response. "Mick St John, Patron Saint of blunt force honesty."

"Josef?"

"What my beloved?" Josef stood grinning mischievously, "Shut up?"

"No." Mick shook his head and pretended to offer a world-weary look in the face of Josef's antics. "Actually I was going to say..."

"...that you love me?" Josef ventured helpfully.

"Yeah, Something like that." Mick snorted a laugh of his own, and pretended to roll his eyes in mock derision. And then his expression was shifting to devotion, a genuine smile playing across his features when he heard the familiar response.

"Ditto."

Back at the L.A Tower Apartments they now called home, Lance paced restlessly in front of Josef's office desk, barking questions at Pierre seated behind it.

"When did he say he'd be back, exactly?"

"He was called away on business," Pierre made sure to keep a polite tone, hand raised in a placating gesture, hoping to appease Lance's growing annoyance. "I expect he'll be back when he's finished. Let me check." Pierre reached for the Cell phone on the desk in front of him then, indicating he was about to place a call, on Lance's behalf.

"Tell him to wait," Josef retorted on the other end, "we'll be there when we get there."

"Was that?" Mick watched as Josef snap closed the phone in his hand.

"Pierre, calling on behalf of Lance." Josef gave a dismissive smile as he placed the phone back in his suit pocket. And then he was shifting into Mick's space, head tilted in a wondering expression. "Have you seen all you needed to here?"

"Yeah, I have." Mick felt the back of Josef's hand brush the line of his jaw, and closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the affection Josef was bestowing on him. And then he was quickly bringing the palm of Josef's hand to his own lips, and placing a brief kiss. "Come on, we don't want to keep Lance waiting too long."

"On the contrary, yes we do." Hand in hand they began walking towards the elevator.  
Josef sounded almost defiant in his clip toned determination. "That is exactly what we want to do, Mick. I want Lance to be annoyed enough to let his guard down. I want to be able to look him in the eye, and know exactly what he's planning."

"Fair enough." Mick nodded his agreement, and silently hoped Josef knew what he was doing. He wasn't in the mood to argue.

"First things first though." Josef waited until they had both stepped into the elevator, traveled a short ways, and then hit the emergency stop button. "I've always wanted to do this." Grinning with unabashed delight he pressed Mick up against the velour-padded side, his lips devouring Mick's own, fingers making light work of the fastenings on Mick jeans.

"Josef…?"

"What?" Josef halted Mick's formed protest with a series of rapid fire kisses spread across Mick's face, and throat. "You said not back there. Well, now we're here, Mick. And here isn't back there."

"You've got an answer for everything, don't you?" Mick regarded Josef in front of him, snorting a wry laugh, and pretending to roll his eyes at the way Josef was leaning back in his arms, a devil may care smile painted across his features.

"So you've told me," Josef had Mick's jeans and underwear slung around his ankles then, "turn around, and bend your knees slightly."

"I have done this once or twice before you know." Mick scoffed as he began to move into position, hands braced against the side paneling in front.

"Really?" Josef spat into his hand, and quickly coated his exposed length with saliva. "Then I suggest you put that experience to good use," Josef leant forward then, his lips pressed against Mick's ear, whispering, "Because we've got about five minutes before security notices this lift isn't moving, and you're going to be fucked, hard."

"What are you waiting for then? I…Oh, Jesus, Fuck!"

Mick drew blood as he bit through his lower lip. The sex that followed was short, sharp, and brutal. Josef gripped the back of Mick's neck with his fangs, as he took Mick from behind, slamming into him unabated, no holds barred. Less than a minute later Mick was grabbing hold of his own cock, and coming hard into the palm of his hand, his fangs sunk deep into the flesh of Josef's wrist as he growled out the rhythm of his release. Seconds later, Josef followed suit.

"You want to go again?" Josef had withdrawn to stretch out alongside Mick, now lying supine on the floor of the elevator. Mick's arms were around Josef's neck, drawing him into an embrace, his lips peppered Josef's face, and neck with kisses. Grudgingly agreeable to Josef's advances at first, now he was keen to elicit a repeat performance.

"Hmm, very tempting," Josef grinned, and then paused to place a brief kiss, "but no. Come on, it's time we were getting back. You were right before, I can't keep Lance waiting too long. I want him to let his guard down, not antagonize him into a fit of blind rage."

Josef stood up, adjusted his clothing back to a more respectable state, waited for Mick to do the same, and then pressed a small, blue lit button on the Elevator's electronic panel, designed to restart their descent.

Immediately, the robotic sounds of a woman's computerised voice filled the cabin.

"Sensors have detected this Elevator is no longer in service. Please wait for Security to respond."

"Crap." Josef gritted his teeth, and swore. "I'm not waiting around for any sort of Security. They'll detain us with umpteen dozen questions, and forms to fill out." Perturbed, Josef began looking for a way out. "Up there," he pointed to the hatch above their heads.

They both scrambled through the small opening, and stood atop the Elevator. Josef quickly gauged the distance to the level above, and then leapt up, balancing precariously on a narrow ledge as he forced open the double doors he found there, and called out for Mick to follow.

Moments later they were both standing on the roof of the apartment complex, some forty levels above ground.

"Alright, what now." Mick stood arms folded across his chest, regarding Josef with a wry, challenging smile. "Care to tell me how we get down from here?"

"We jump of course." Josef shrugged, as if the answer should have been obvious.

"Christ, Josef," Mick was suddenly wide eyed disturbed, "I can't jump that far."

"Sure you can."

Without waiting for a response, Josef stepped off the edge of the roof himself, and landed effortlessly on a wide balcony ledge several levels below. "Come on," he called back up to Mick, "you'll be fine. Just jump down level by level."

Josef watched in mute horror then as Mick jumped, over shot the mark by a mile, and began plummeting towards the ground at a terrifying speed.

"Oh shit, shit, shit, shit." Josef made it to ground zero, just in time to see Mick's body slam full force into the asphalt pavement with a sickening crunch, the extent of the impact shattering bones, and rupturing organs. He swore repeatedly, cursed his own idiocy with frustration, and regret, and then hurried to attend Mick's broken form.

"Geez, Mister," A young female passerby had witnessed the whole thing, "Is he dead? Do you want me to call an ambulance? How did you get down in one piece?"

Questions, too many damn questions. Josef wasn't in the mood for any of it.

"No, he's not dead. He can't be dead, we don't die that easily." Josef turned to the female addressing him, his vampire form clearly visible.

"Oh my god, what are you?" Momentarily frozen in sheer terror, the woman tried to run, tried to scream; ended up doing neither. Within seconds Josef had descended on her, caught her up in his arms, and torn her throat out with his fangs.

In the back of his mind, Josef was very much aware that he had just taken the life of an innocent. Mick was going to be furious with him. He couldn't think about that now. Mick needed blood; Mick was his first, and only concern.

Josef dragged the lifeless corpse over to where Mick lay, and pressed the bloody wound against his lips, urging Mick to, "Drink."

Slowly, gradually Mick drank, drawing blood from veins, and draining the body of the woman dry.

"Come on, my beloved. That's it, drink," Josef continued to encourage, smoothing Mick's hair with his hand as he watched, and waited for Mick's healing process to begin.

Fully conscious now, Mick grimaced, and shook as his shattered body began to mend itself, the entire process a drawn out, and painful one.

"I told you I couldn't jump that far." Mick managed to hiss through the pain. "Now look at me, do you have any idea how much this hurts."

"I know, I'm sorry." Josef tried his best to affect a suitably contrite look.

The healing process complete, Mick sat up, intent on blasting his husband's stupidity.

"So who was she?" Mick gestured towards the deceased female lying crumpled on the ground alongside him.

"Just some passerby. I didn't have a choice."

"An innocent?" Mick scrubbed furious hands over his face, and then let fly, " Well thank you, Josef, thank you very much. An innocent. That's great, really. You know I just love killing innocent victims who happen to be in the wrong place, at the wrong time. How could you have been so damn stupid, you didn't even think there might have been another way down?"

"I said I was sorry."

Mick drew in a sharp breath, prepared to unleash another wave of denigration, and then stopped in his tracks. Josef was crying. Josef never cried, not like this, not all blotchy red faced, choking on gut wrenching sobs.

"Hey," Mick immediately relented, his anger shifting to concern, "What's wrong? I'm ok. Look," Mick waved an arm, and wriggled the fingers of one hand out in front of him, to indicate his restored health.

"It's not that. And I don't need your sympathy either, Mick." Josef spluttered, and then shook Mick off with annoyance, when Mick tried to offer his embrace. "

"Ok," Mick nodded with quiet understanding, and took a step back, his arms folded across his chest, still regarding his husband with concern. Josef was clearly embarrassed by his current state. Mick knew at that point not to try and make too big a deal of it. "What do you need?" he asked, taking care to soften his voice, and keep a neutral tone.

"I need a solution to all of…this." Josef made a wide encompassing gesture to indicate what 'this' was. "Everything, the whole reason we're back in L.A in the first place. Seeing you fall like that, Christ, Mick. All of you just expect me to sit around, and watch Roisin die. She's my blood. I can save her; she can heal, just like you did, just now. We don't have to be here for any of this. You don't have to go digging up the past traipsing through old haunts, I didn't have to just watch you fall off the top of that building and go splat all over the ground at my feet, that innocent didn't need to die. None of this, none of it needs to happen. We could be home, right now, all of us, together. Why doesn't anyone else besides me seem to get any of this?"

"We get it, alright?" Mick moved once more to comfort his husband, satisfied this time Josef wasn't going to object. "We get it, we just don't get to have any say in it. Roisin's made her decision, she doesn't want to live our life."  
"How come you get to be so wise ass philosophical about this?" Josef leant back in Mick's arms, and scoffed, the last of his tears slowly drying up.

"I don't know?" Mick smiled, and rested his forehead atop Josef's for a moment, "Inbuilt talent I guess."

Josef snorted a weak laugh. It seemed not that long ago their positions had been reversed. Mick had been the one looking to him for strength, and guidance. Railing against the injustices of a former loved one seemingly intent on rejecting all offers of help. That situation, Josef reminded himself, hadn't ended so well either.

"I'd be lost without you, you know that, don't you?" It was a rhetorical question. Josef held Mick at arms length, his expression couched in earnest.

"Yeah, me too." Mick smiled, and nodded a casual agreement. And then he was watching as Josef stepped back, scrubbed the remaining tear tracks from his face, briskly adjusted the sleeves of his suit coat, and then extended a hand for Mick to take.

"I still don't get what's so damn attractive about being human." Josef was back in control.

"Oh come on, it isn't that bad." Mick let out a brief laugh, and then accepted Josef's proffered hand.

"Yeah, for you maybe." Josef tossed back flippantly. "Come on," he said then, his manner shifting serious as he began to lead Mick off up the street ahead, "it's time you and I were getting back. We've had enough adventure to last for one night. I'm not intending on creating anymore."


	11. Chapter 10

Within less than an hour, they had arrived back at the apartment. "My apologies," Josef strode into the room that now served as his office, hands raised in contrition, preempting any words from Lance. "I trust Pierre managed to keep you suitably entertained while I was otherwise engaged."

Lance hesitated. Josef was watching eagle eyed, waiting for Lance to make his move, show his hand. And then Lance was sweeping forward with a broad smile, arms outstretched in act of welcome.

"Josef Kostan," Lance clapped his hands on Josef's shoulders, and then warmly kissed both sides of his face. "On behalf of myself, and the family, may I offer you our sincerest congratulations."

Josef saw straight through the charade. Lance couldn't have been more insincere if he tried.

Standing on the sidelines, Mick made his own observations. He had been concerned earlier, given Josef's previous outburst that evening; worried that Josef's nerves may have been too frayed. Mick was relieved to find his fears unwarranted. Josef was back in control. The maestro, and his orchestra, conducting those before him at will with the arch of an eyebrow.

"We trust that you will lead the Vampire Nation into a wondrous, new age." Mick was listening to Lance tell Josef then, finding himself having to bite back the urge to laugh as he watched Josef hold himself in check. Even for Lance's standards, he was laying it on uncharacteristically thick. Mick didn't trust him. He stole another quick glance across at Josef, found Josef's expression, subtle as it was, in agreement with his. Josef didn't trust the man either.

"How very sycophantic of you." Tongue planted firmly in cheek, Josef grinned, and raised a facetious eyebrow. And then he was laughing falsely along with Lance, pretending to chortle with amusement at Josef's barb, and gesturing for Lance to take a seat.

To a casual observer the next hour passed pleasantly enough. More accolades were given, more pledges of allegiance made. Something wasn't right though. Lance Duvall hadn't come all that way just to kiss arse.

"Well, what do you think?" Josef turned to Mick, and Pierre once Lance had left.

"He senses a power vacuum." Pierre kept one eye trained on the doorway, as if he expected Lance to reappear at any moment. "He'll come after you."

Josef nodded his concurrence; he'd sensed the same thing. "Question is," Josef addressed the room, "what do we do about it?"

"He's a threat, we kill him. Simple as that."

Josef and Pierre each enacted their own double take at Mick's words, the off the cuff determined manner in which they'd been delivered. Josef stared at Mick for a moment, wide eyed incredulous, before shifting to a flurry of activity, opening drawers, and panels, searching under the desk.

"What are you doing?"

"Looking for my husband," Josef responded to Mick's scrunch browed puzzlement, "He seems to have been misplaced. Have you seen him anywhere?"

"Yeah, very funny." Mick shot Josef a patronising smile, and then sat back in his seat, arms folded across his chest, the ankle of one leg rested atop the knee of the other, "I don't trust him," Mick's manner shifted serious once more, "you remember what he did to Coraline, beheading her the way he did. He was so matter of fact about it, so cold. There's no dealing, or reasoning with someone like that."

"I understand what you're saying Mick," Pierre sat forward, and addressed Mick then, "the trouble is, the Duvall's have considerable power of their own. It would be foolhardy for the order to kill a prominent member of the family."

Josef tented his fingers against his lips, and looked thoughtful for a moment. "Is there a suitable position we could create for him instead? Bring him into the fold so to speak."

"Hmm, possibly," Pierre sensed Mick's formed protest, and raised a silencing hand. "It's an interesting approach to the situation."

"An interesting approach," Mick wouldn't be silenced completely, "are you kidding me? What was all that talk about being foolhardy before?"

"From what I understand, at least with what Pierre's filled me on," Josef began to explain, "the Duvall's overall are staunch loyalists to the Order…"

"…Quite," Pierre interjected, "it will take time for Lance to hive off a faction willing to go after power. Some of the younger members of the family may be persuaded"

"And in the meantime," Josef continued, "Lance isn't exactly renowned for his patience. He's arrogant that way, we can use that against him."

"How?" Mick looked wary.

"Simple," Josef shrugged, "we place him in a position where he'll be more likely to make a move before he's ready…"

"…And presumably the Duvall's themselves will take care of the rest for us." Pierre laughed heartily, and slapped a hand on the desk in front of him, "It's almost twisted enough to be brilliant."

"Thanks," Josef grinned, and then chortled with shared amusement.

"I still don't like it, there's too much risk." Mick remained unimpressed, distrustful of the whole affair. He turned to Pierre, accusation at the ready, "You're supposed to be his advisor."

"Yes, I am," Pierre smiled, and nodded, remaining genteel throughout, "and I'm advising Josef that his plan is brilliant. It's cunning, devious, and strategic - it's exactly something Auguste would have done. Besides, the risk is negligible, or are you forgetting thanks to Roisin we now have a team of highly trained, Legion assassins on its hands. Josef will have round the clock protection of the utmost order, you both will."

Mick mumbled something indiscernible under his breath, and then relented. The meeting drew to a close.

"Mick, wait," Josef had already left the room, announcing his intent to retire for the evening, when Pierre snatched Mick's arm, and halted him from following on. "Everyone needs a boost sometime," Pierre looked pointedly at Mick, hoping he understood.

Mick nodded as if he did. "You're trying to instill confidence, I get that. I still think there's too much…"

"…Mick," Pierre placed a hand on Mick's shoulder, "Josef is the head of the Vampire nation now, there will always be risks. I'll do my best to minimise those I can."

"I know." Mick nodded a reluctant agreement. And then he was pressing Pierre for more, "You still don't think it's a good idea though either, right?"

"I never said that," Pierre replied. "Josef's plan is a feasible one."

"Feasible, but not…"

"…Brilliant?"

"Exactly."

"On the contrary," Pierre shrugged, and pretended to inspect his hands for a moment. His casual dismissiveness intended to put Mick's mind at ease, "So I laid the praise on a little too thick, it still doesn't change the basic fact. I meant what I said earlier, Auguste would have handled this in the exact same way."

Mick hesitated for a moment, seeming to weigh the situation up in his mind, before raised his eyes skywards, and then nodded another reluctant agreement. "Yeah, ok. Just make sure you keep him safe."

"I will, Mick. You have my word on that."

"So what did Pierre want?"

"Nothing." Mick groaned as he felt Josef's hand slip between the cheeks of his arse, felt fingers there, stroking, teasing, and then pressing upwards. "Just – ah – to wish me luck, for tomorrow, with Roisin."

"Bullshit," Josef grinned, and curled his fingers inside Mick's arse, his own arousal growing as he watched Mick's body jolt. "Don't lie to me, Mick."

"I'm not…" Mick was growing too distracted to keep up pretence. "He just wanted to reassure me, with you, that you knew what you were doing."

"And, did it work?" Again Josef curled his fingers, and stroked against Mick's prostate.

Mick arced at the sensation, "Jesus, yes."

"Good," Josef tittered with amusement at Mick's response, and slipped a third finger into Mick's arse. "You need to stop worrying so damn much, and trust me. I know what I'm doing." As if to prove a point, Josef corkscrewed his hand, and then pressed up. The movement, and pressure almost enough push Mick past the point of no return. And then he was placing his lips to Mick's ear, and whispering a heated instruction. "Now get off on my fingers."

The last thing Mick felt, as he rode Josef's hand, and bought himself over the edge, was the sensation of Josef's fangs slicing into the flesh of his neck. As Josef fisted the length of his cock, and came at the sight of Mick's pleasure.

"It's nice," Roisin managed a wan smile as she explored her Uncle's apartment late the following afternoon. Mick hovered close by, concerned for Roisin's weakened state as he waited for the inevitable questions to begin. "Did Beth live here with you as well?"

"No." Mick shook his head, deciding the best responses would be the simplest ones. "Beth, and I didn't live together."

Roisin struggled from room to room, occasionally scuffing a foot along the floor, marking out spots where furniture once stood. "Were you going to?"

"We never spoke about it."

Roisin nodded a mute understanding. "You loved her though, didn't you?"

"Yes," Mick took a moment to steady himself against a rush of memory, "she was very special to me. Sorry I don't normally…I haven't spoken about Beth in a while."

Again that same quiet nod, and then it was Roisin's turn to pause as she weighed things up in her mind.

"Tell me about her," Roisin turned to face her Uncle direct then, her face a mask of open request, "please."

Twenty minutes later they were seated opposite one another at a quiet café. Roisin held a cup of hot chocolate in her hands, and sipped at the warming liquid as she listened to her Uncle talk.

Mick opened up in fits, and starts, hesitant at first, until he found the rhythm of his speech. When Mick was done, Roisin had been presented with a canvas of experience, all filled in, and coloured with vivid memory. And Mick had been left feeling vulnerable, and wrung out with the difficulty of sharing a buried past. The sense of exhaustion etched clear on his face.

"You don't like to talk about this, do you?" Roisin studied her Uncle's expression with scrunched brow concern.

"No." Mick shook his head, and scrubbed at an imaginary spot on the table with his finger.

"Why?"

The question was devastating in its simplicity. For a moment Mick found himself caught off guard. Why? That one word encompassed so many different answers. Answers Mick wasn't sure he knew how to adequately give.

"Let's just say, Beth is a reminder of past mistakes I don't like to think about." Mick averted his eyes, and chewed pensively on his bottom lip for a moment. "After her death I didn't exactly behave rationally. I did things that hurt your Uncle Josef. I'm not proud of that."

"Uncle Mick," Roisin placed the cup in her hand to one side, and then reached across the table to place a comforting hand on her Uncle's arm. "It was almost three decades ago, I'm sure Uncle Josef has forgiven you by now."

"Yeah, he has." Mick gave a burst of laughter, and shook his head. When Roisin put it like that, it did seem to bring things into perspective. But then Mick had always had trouble letting go of the past. Easier just to pretend it didn't exist at all.

"You shouldn't let the past define you."

"I know." Mick nodded a quiet agreement, and then looked at his wristwatch, "It's late, we've been here for hours, you look tired. We should go."

"Just answer one more question for me, Uncle Mick."

Mick gave another nod, this time indicating the affirmative, "Sure."

"If you could get Beth back, the way she used to be, the way she was when you loved her, would you give up Uncle Josef?"

_Reassure me. Reassure me that when I am gone my family will remain the same._

"Maybe, at one stage I would have, if I thought it was just me who would have been punished," It was the most honest answer Mick could give. And then he was looking at his niece direct, his next words spoken in earnest, "but not now. My life is with your Uncle Josef, there is no one else."

Mick's answer seemed to satisfy Roisin. They called it a night. Gathering up her belongings, Roisin reluctantly allowed her Uncle to assist her to the car. Mick had heard Roisin's shrill insistence about not being treated as an invalid enough times to understand her need to maintain the illusion of being able to walk unassisted. He made a concerted effort not to hold her too tight, as he helped her along.

The drove back to the apartment in shared silence. Roisin occasionally hummed along to the radio, as she turned the day's events over in her mind. For his own part, Mick concentrated on reburying the past.

Mick knew something was wrong as soon as he opened the apartment door. He detected a child's scent on the air, and…

_…The scent of another human._

Warning Roisin to stay close, Mick began tracking the scent; stopping occasionally to judge which direction it was coming from, until he found himself standing in the luxury appointed kitchen, upstairs from the ground floor landing.

There at the table was Miriam, gurgling her mortality happily as Josef bounced the infant on his knee.

Mick took a quick inventory of the air in the room, his brow furrowing in confusion. There were two humans in front of him, Miriam, and…

"Josef?" Mick stared, wide eyed in disbelief, and then pulled a hand down over his face. "What the hell have you gone and done?"

Mick waited until Roisin had quickly bundled Miriam into her arms, and beaten as hasty a retreat as she could muster, before he flew at Josef in a torrent of frustration, and anger.

"Have you gone completely fucking insane?" For a moment Mick looked panic stricken. Terrified of the truth those words might have held. Immediately his approach switched from furor, to cautious concern. "Seriously, Josef, are you ok?"

"I'm fine, Mick," Josef brushed Mick's concerns aside with a reassuring smile, and then held up the fingers of one hand in a mock salute. "I promise, Scout's honor."

"Scouts honour." Mick gave a sniff of laughter, and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right."

"Don't you even want to know what I'm thinking?"

"That's the trouble, Josef," Mick pulled up a seat, and sat down wearily at the table, "I don't think you are thinking."

"Well maybe I just wanted to see what all the fuss was about," Josef half tongue in cheeked, and then shifted his own chair closer to Mick's. "Mick, look at me," a finger placed under Mick's chin, Josef guided Mick's gaze towards his. "Trust me. I have a plan."

"You have a plan." Mick let out a steadying huff of breath, and looked at the ceiling.

"Ok, is it just me, or do you hear an echo coming from somewhere?" Josef deadpanned, "Because I swear I keep hearing my own words being repeated back to me."

Mick ignored Josef's retort, stroking the pads of his fingers across his forehead instead, as he tried to take stock of the situation. "Does Pierre know about this?"

"Not yet."

"Right," Mick was on his feet then, heading for the door in a flurry of determination, "Maybe he can talk some sense into you, because I sure as hell don't seem to be able to."

"I'm sorry, he's done what?" Pierre stared at Mick standing at the foot of the bed. It was bad enough he had stormed in mid stroke, as it were; now Mick was telling him something about Josef being human.

"Josef must have raided the Order's stocks of the mortal cure. He's human." Mick looked at Pierre point blank, lips drawn in a thin smile, seemingly oblivious to any interruption he might have caused.

"I'll be right there, just give me a moment to get dressed." Pierre sat up, and scrubbed frustrated hands over his face. Next to him, bed covers pulled over her head, Katherine grumbled her own disapproval, peppering her words with a smattering of sharp toned expletives.

"Ah, good, you're here," Josef greeted Pierre's arrival with a confident smile, and made a sweeping gesture towards the kitchen table. "Have a seat, we need to get started."

"Not in your present condition." Pierre shook his head, and then turned to Mick, intent on delivering instruction.

"I'm sorry, 'not in my present condition'?" Josef interjected before Pierre had a chance to speak. And then he was stepping forward, and waving a hand in front of Pierre's face, "Hello, person in charge here. Or have you conveniently forgotten that."

"No, I hadn't forgotten," Pierre tried his best to adopt a patient tone, "your excellency. However, considering your current state of being, I'm afraid you are no longer in charge, at least for the time you remain human."

"What?" Josef took a step back, unable to hide his dismay. He hadn't factored in the possibility he might have been relieved of power.

"As Vice Chancellor," Pierre continued, "the balance of power falls on Mick's shoulders, temporarily at least."

"What is this," Josef scoffed, and rolled his eyes, "more tradition."

Josef's tone clearly let it be known exactly what he thought of the Order's reliance on 'tradition', or, more to the point, his own inability to flout tradition this time.

Pierre ignored Josef's burlesque, and turned to Mick instead. "The situation's in your hands now, Mick. What do you want to do about it?"

"Isn't anyone going to at least listen to what I have to say?" Josef interjected, adopting a puppy eyed look as he pleaded for consideration.

"I, ah…" Mick faltered. He hadn't expected this, not him as the one in charge. That responsibility, he thought, would have fallen to Pierre. He took a moment to clear his thoughts, and then tried to affect a tone of confidence he certainly didn't feel. "Okay, well, we'll get some sleep for now, Josef will need something to eat in the morning, I'll take care of that, and then we'll call a meeting for tomorrow afternoon."

"Very good, your excellency." Pierre kowtowed to Mick's wisdom, letting it be known clearly whom he thought was in charge from this point on.

Pierre stood watch then as Mick took Josef by the arm, and tried to lead him away. His brow furrowed with concern as he listened to Josef vehemently protesting the injustices of a tradition he was beginning to realise, could not always be circumvented.

"Stop sniffing me like that." Josef lay on his back; one arm tucked behind his head, and looked less than impressed with the way Mick kept burrowing his nose into the side of his neck.

"You don't smell like you," Mick took another whiff of Josef's scent, his nose wrinkling with discomposure. "You smell…"

"Human?" Josef offered with mock helpfulness.

"Yeah." Mick propped himself up on one shoulder, and studied Josef's form laid out before him, the fingers of one hand running experimentally up, and down Josef's torso. "How do you feel?"

"I feel," Josef hesitated, his brow furrowed with consideration as he tried to find the words to express his growing discomfort. "I feel disconnected, cut off. I can't sense you enough, your scent, your presence, it's like there's something getting in the way."

I'm right here." Mick took hold of Josef's hand then, and pressed it against his chest, letting Josef feel his heartbeat through his fingertips. "I'm right here."

For a moment Josef felt sure Mick was about to call him 'baby'. Mentally baulking at the notion, Josef sought to distract himself from such chaffing thoughts. His fingers entwining with Mick's own, Josef shifted Mick's hand onto his cock.

"That's really not a good idea." Mick flinched, and quickly withdrew.

"Oh, since when?" Josef tried to draw Mick back to him. Wanting to pull Mick closer, wanting to feel Mick's lips pressed against his own.

"Since you became human, and I'm still a Vampire."

"So," Josef tossed his head, and reeled off a flippant smile, "Vampires, and humans can have sex Mick, didn't we once talk about this?"

"Yeah, we did, eighty years ago." For a moment Mick's expression darkened.

Josef realised his mistake, moving swiftly to make amends. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring up the past."

"Doesn't matter." Mick forced a smile, and waved him off. "That's all over and done with now, it has been for a long time."

"How did it go with Roisin?" Josef caressed a hand along the side of Mick's face, thoughts of sex cast aside for the moment. "You taking her to visit your old apartment I mean."

"It went well. She had a lot of questions, of course." Mick looked relieved to have the pressure taken off, he was almost enthusiastic about sharing the day's events.

The relief didn't last long.

"Well, that was to be expected." Josef's hand continued to caress, lingering along the line of Mick's jaw, and then shifting down to Mick's neck.

"Yeah, I know. I was prepared for it." Despite his efforts at pretending otherwise Mick felt his arousal continue to grow, even as a human Josef's touch hadn't lost any of its surety.

"I know you were, and I expect you handled it with your usual grace, and wisdom. All capped off with a fine layer of sack cloth and ashes of course." Josef chortled his amusement, and then sought lower, his hands moving downwards to rub across Mick's chest.

Mick tried to protest. Josef was whispering to him, cajoling. Talking about desires for experience, and the otherness of the mortal coil, as his fingers lightly circled Mick's nipples. And then he was shifting even closer, his erection lined up against Mick's thigh, his breathing becoming uneven as he began grinding himself against Mick's flesh.

"Oh, Jesus, stop, stop, please, stop." Again Mick tried in vain to pull away. His body betrayed him, his arms reaching for Josef instead, drawing tight around Josef's neck.

"Why?" Josef's lips sought Mick's own.

"What if I lose control?" Mick wasn't sure at that point that he hadn't already. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't." Josef's lips brushed lightly across Josef's throat, his fingers working along Mick's spine, and then shifting around to the front. "Or maybe you will, and I'll like it."

Mick groaned as Josef's fingers found their mark. At that point all thoughts of offering up another round of protest proved useless. Against his better judgement, Mick knew they were going to ride this to completion.

"Lie on your back if you're worried about biting me. It's a shorter distance from your wrist to your mouth, than my neck is." Josef was instructing Mick then, trying to cement the situation with hastily given reassurances.

"We really shouldn't be doing this."

"Oh I know, it's dangerous," Josef chuckled as he straddled Mick's hips, and reached for the tube of lubricant next to the bed. And then he was bending his head to whisper in Mick's ear. "I like dangerous."

Mick felt his cock twitch, and prayed he would come before they got started, tried to will it to happen. At least if he came now he would be more in control than with his cock buried in Josef's arse, or so he figured.

"Oh no you don't. You don't get off that easily boy-o." Josef sensed Mick's desire to speed things along, as he hurriedly coated Mick's length with lube. And then he was lowering himself onto Mick's erection, and taking immediate note of two things. One, this was a lot harder than it looked when you were human, and two, he gave himself about thirty seconds before he was blowing his load across Mick's stomach. It seemed a limit on pain tolerance wasn't the only drawback to being human.

Josef tried to breathe through it, gave up, and tried to hold his breath instead, quickly realising his mistake when he became dizzy from lack of oxygen. And somehow that just seemed to push his orgasm closer.

"Oh Christ. Damn it," Josef swore through his teeth in frustration as the first waves of release hit. This hadn't been his plan. He had wanted things drawn out, starting off slow, and then building fast, and furious. He had wanted Mick writhing beneath him, begging to come. Not him coming the moment Mick's cock breached his resistance. "Ok, that makes it official," he declared bitterly as the last of his pulsations subsided, "being human sucks."

"I'm sorry."

Mick wasn't sorry at all. At that particular moment, Mick was feeling something more akin to sheer relief. He had been picturing an eternity's worth of trauma, forced to replay an image of Josef bleeding to death in his arms with his throat torn out. Mick's very own brand of punishment for not being firmer in his resistance. That wasn't going to happen again. The novelty of fucking Josef in human form was diminishing by the second, along with his retreating cock.

"No you're not." Josef shot back with an added eye roll, and more exaggerated huffs of annoyance. It was only then Josef realised Mick hadn't even gotten off with him. For a moment Josef considered instigating a second round. Considered it, and then discarded the idea. He was far too tired, a weary heaviness beginning to creep past his limbs, and overtake his entire body. Being human apparently not only lowered pain tolerance, made a person spontaneously ejaculate within five yards of an erection, and caused people to drop into a coma not five minutes after orgasm had been achieved, it had also made him into a very selfish lover. Or so Josef thought as he settled alongside Mick, and grumbled to no one in particular, "My god, how do you people stand this much patheticness in your lives."

"Oh come on, it's not that bad. Give it time, you'll get used to it." Mick smiled as he listened to Josef kvetch about the limits of humanity.

Josef didn't respond. He had already fallen asleep. Mick drew his arms around Josef's upper body, pressed his lips to the top of Josef's head rested against his shoulder, and listened quietly to the rhythm of Josef's breathing as he slept.

The following morning, Josef awoke with a start. Something was wrong, he felt warm. Mick's body, normally icy cold to the touch first thing, was pressed against his, radiating heat. What had happened, why had they fallen asleep for so long outside the Freezer?

Josef's still sleep addled brain quickly ran through a list of possible explanations, each one more implausible than the last. Until he was almost certain the lack of Freezer time had something to do with space mutants and deadly biogenetic mushroom spores.

"Vampires are never this fanciful," Josef thought, "there's something to be said for the rationale of immortality."

_Immortality, Vampires…_

Josef remembered then. Humans couldn't sleep in freezers, not the way Vampires did. He had rejoined the mortal coil. That explained the lack of welcoming cold, and the comfortingly familiar blue glow that was missing from overhead.

Next to him Mick stirred, and then sat up, groggily shaking off the shackles of his own sleep.

"You shouldn't have slept in here with me." There was no recrimination in Josef's voice, just matter of fact concern. Mick could handle a night or two sans ice; an extra bag or two of blood would take care of that. There was a limit though, one that Josef didn't want to see Mick trying to push. Not on his account

"It was your first night," Mick's own concern was evident, "I didn't want you waking up too disorientated."

Mick stretched back out alongside Josef then, half propped up one shoulder, and brushed an affectionate hand along the side of Josef's face. "How do you feel?"

"Still human," Josef chuckled, and then entwined his fingers with Mick's, pausing briefly to place a kiss in the centre of Mick's palm. And then he was shifting forward, his lips brushing against Mick's own.

Mick immediately moved to block Josef's advances, placing a hand between them, and pushing Josef away, "Didn't we already agree this wasn't a good idea."

"Did we? I don't remember that." Josef affected a look of schoolboy innocence, and then offered up an arched brow grin. "We'll call it selective amnesia."

"How about we call it, 'you're human, I'm a Vampire, and this is a bad idea'."

Josef wasn't listening, two hands placed either side of Mick's shoulders he was attempting to manoeuvre Mick into position. Mick held firm. A mortal pitted against a Vampire when that Vampire didn't want to be moved, Josef may as well have been trying to push against a mountain.

"Mick, seriously," Josef pretended to be steeped in earnest then, 'don't make me beg."

"Josef…"

"…What Mick?" Eyebrows raised, Josef adopted an overly excited look, "Let's have sex? I thought you'd never ask."

"No." The tone of Mick's voice let Josef know he wasn't going to budge on the issue, already Mick was clambering off the bed, and reaching for a pile of crumpled clothes on the floor. "Come on, get dressed," Mick softened his tone as he tossed Josef's own clothes towards him, "We need to get some breakfast into you."

"I swear, Mick," reluctantly Josef followed Mick's lead, and climbed out of bed to quickly pull on something remotely akin to decent morning attire, "when you turn me back, we're not getting out of bed for a month."

'When you turn me back', Mick stopped in his tracks at the sound of Josef's words, and then mentally cursed his own oversight. He hadn't even considered he would be the one when the time came. But who else was there? Katherine wasn't strong enough, and considering the effect a re-turning would have if the Vampire weren't a blood relation, he was the obvious choice, correction, the only choice.

Mick took a moment to shake off his uncertainty. Hurriedly pulling on the last of his clothes, Mick waited until Josef had done the same, and then walked towards him, smile at the ready.

"Come on Casanova," Mick slapped Josef a little too heartily on the back, and gave a brief laugh, "let's go. We can't have you missing your first meal in almost five hundred years."

"What, are you planning to live vicariously through my digestive system?" Josef quick witted in response as he began to follow Mick's lead towards the kitchen.

An hour later Josef sat at a table that groaned under the weight of a gastronomic overload. Unwilling to leave Josef alone, even for a moment, Mick had placed calls to ten local restaurants, and insisted that one of everything their respective menus had to offer be delivered direct to their front door, offering to pay extra for any inconvenience.

"Here, try this," Mick grinned with unabashed delight as he loaded up another forkful of food, "this was one of my favourite dishes growing up as a kid. Oh, and this too," Josef didn't even have time to swallow, before the next mouthful was being shovelled in, "I used to love these. And these too."

"Mick," Josef was at least three mouthfuls behind swallowing, and already he could see Mick loading up for another four-pronged assault. Flecks flew from the corners of his mouth, as he attempted to speak with a jaw stuffed full of food, "here's a radical idea. Why don't I try eating something I might like?"

"Oh, yeah. Sorry, I didn't think." Mick halted mid strike, and looked momentarily sheepish. And then he was brightening again just as fast, and rattling off a list of alternate food choices, seeing if any of them struck Josef's fancy.

"Seriously, I can order whatever you want," Josef listened to Mick telling him in rapid fire tones, "if the restaurants don't have it on hand, I'm sure we can pay them extra to whip something similar up. You just name it, whatever you want."

Josef took a moment to smile at Mick's enthusiasm, before raising a stilling hand. Taking the fork from Mick, Josef hovered over the array of dishes. Nothing looked familiar to his palate.

"Actually, I think I've had enough for one meal," Josef set the fork down, and slid his chair away from the table, absentmindedly smoothing a hand over his distended belly, "if I eat any more, I'll blow up so much you'll be able to tie me to a piece of string, and enter me in Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade."

Mick snorted a laugh, and tried not to look too disappointed; there was still lunch, and dinner to come, plenty of time to prepare a dish or two that Josef would enjoy. He planned to check out some bookstores online later that day, maybe try and pick up a recipe book of traditional 17th century cuisine. For now though, Mick needed to attend to his own nutritional requirements.

Before he had a chance to head for the fridge, Josef had extended his wrist towards Mick. Straight away, Mick baulked at the idea.

"No."

"Mick, please," Josef extended his arm further, waving it almost insistently under Mick's nose, "I feel so cut off from you like this, the least you could do is feed from me."

Another brief hesitation, his mind quickly weighing up options, and then Mick was cradling Josef's wrist in his hand.

Josef drew in a sharp breath as he felt Mick's fangs pierce his flesh. And then it was all warm, wet pressure, and gentle sucking against his skin. Josef let his eyes fall shut for a moment, revelling in the sensation, before shifting his free hand down to the fastenings on Mick's jeans.

Mick thought to protest, found he couldn't tear himself away from Josef's wrist. Josef's blood tasted like liquid gold as he lapped, and sucked at the two small puncture wounds he had created.

"Keep going; you're not hurting me." Josef was whispering his reassurances then, encouraging Mick to continue feeding as he somehow managed to release Mick's cock from its constraints.

Mick groaned as Josef wrapped a firm hand around his shaft, and began to stroke. Slowly at first, and then getting faster, until Josef's arm burned from the effort, and his fingers were a blur of motion along Mick's length.

More whispered words of encouragement, his monologue shifting increasingly explicit, Josef spurred Mick on. And then he was letting out a very audible gasp, and wincing in pain as Mick bit down full strength, and came in a sudden heated rush of blood, and semen that flowed over Josef's hand and fingers. Josef was surprised, even taken aback at the strength of Mick's bite. It felt as if his arm had been caught in a steel jaw trap.

Mick was full of panicked apologies as he withdrew from Josef's wrist, his expression crumple-etched with concern. "Shit, sorry, are you…"

"I'm fine, Mick," Josef brushed Mick's concerns aside with more words of reassurance, and then studied the wound on his wrist. Two perfect circles, about an inch apart, seeped blood that ran down his arm in tiny rivers when he rotated his wrist a certain way. The blood, the contrast of bright red against his still pale skin, fascinated Josef. The way it flowed, it's rich heady scent, detectable even to his mortal senses. Josef pressed his lips to the wound, and sucked experimentally at the crimson fluid. The act gave him comfort.

Mick sat watch, zipped up, and decent now, his brow scrunched with bemusement. "You actually miss drinking blood?"

Josef looked up from his self-suckling, and shrugged. "I was a Vampire for almost five centuries, Mick. None of this," Josef gestured towards the food on the table in front of him, "is familiar to me. Not anymore, not after this long." And then he was dipping a finger into the trickle of blood still flowing from his arm, and smearing it across Mick's mouth. "This," Josef leant in and pressed his lip's to Mick's own, "this is what is familiar to me. This, and you."

They both found themselves locked in a heated tangle of limbs, and fervent kisses then. Against his better judgement Mick had no doubt at that moment he was going to let Josef fuck him senseless, right there, sprawled out on the kitchen floor.

Before things could proceed further, Pierre had given a perfunctory knock, and stepped into the room.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything?"

"No," Mick got in quick before Josef had a chance to offer any protest, "that's fine. We were just having breakfast."

Mick felt caught between breathing a sigh of relief at being saved from potential regret, and cursing Pierre's good name for the interruption. Next to him Mick could hear Josef's breathing, ragged, and heavy with an arousal he felt coursing through his own veins too.

"Ah, breakfast," Pierre ignored the situation before him, and turned his attention to Josef, eager for a first hand culinary report, "how was it?"

"Edible." Josef didn't miss a beat.

"Wonderful." Pierre clapped his hands together in mock delight. And then they were getting straight down to business, they couldn't afford to waste any more time. "Roisin is due to start her next phase of treatment…"

"…You mean that Nanotechnology stuff?" Josef looked puzzled. Injecting tiny robots into Roisin's blood stream to carry out repairs at a cellular level was supposed to be a last resort. Despite great advances in the last eighty years, the technology was still in its development phase, the scope for something to go wrong was considerable. The robots had been known to malfunction, and destroy healthy cells faster than any cancer could.

"No," Pierre smiled, and shook his head, "not that. I believe they're moving to the Stem Cell phase. Roisin's just getting ready, I'll be driving her to the hospital."

"And when you get back…?" Mick spoke then

Josef pre-empted the rest of Mick's sentence "…I take it you're calling a meeting?"

"Precisely," Pierre turned to Mick, "or rather, our present Grand Chancellor will be. Name a time, Mick; we'll be there. I've taken the liberty of rearranging the schedule for the next four days to give us some flexibility whilst we're dealing with matters."

"Ah, yeah, sure, ok." Mick quickly flipped through a mental page of suitable times. The rest of the morning was out; Pierre's time would be taken up with Roisin, the man couldn't be in two places at once, and then there was lunch, "This afternoon, two o clock."

Pierre gave a cursory bow in Mick's direction. "Excellent, two o clock it is then."

Two o clock came, and went. The time on the wall read 3.15 now. Mick sat head in hands, trying to piece together Josef's words.

"Ok, let's go through this again," Mick stroked a frustrated hand across his forehead, and sat up. "You want to throw a party, while you're human, invite Lance, and then goad him into attacking you in human form?"

"Yeah, that's about the gist of it."

For a second Mick wanted nothing more than to the slap the smug grin from Josef's face. Josef's plan was insanity personified. Mick turned to Pierre, "Talk to him, please. Before he gets himself killed."

"Josef," Pierre held up a placating hand, "your plan is an interesting one, I'll grant you that, but…"

"…But what?" Josef interjected with snap toned determination, "Do you have a better idea? The Duvalls are the only ones who possess the actual recipe for the mortal cure, you've said yourself it's their greatest bargaining chip. They're not likely to just hand it over because we asked nicely. We set a trap for Lance, catch him red handed trying to assassinate the head honcho, and use that as leverage."

"Lance's life spared in exchange for the mortal cure."

"Exactly."

Pierre had the distinct feeling they were going round in circles then. Josef clearly wasn't going to budge on the issue. He let out a low breath, and briefly raised his eyes skywards, steadying himself before moving to discuss the finer details of safety, and protection. Whatever happened, Josef couldn't be allowed to rush into this unprepared. Pierre knew Josef understood that. He may have been willing to take a risk, but he was far from suicidal.

"Wait, you're agreeing to let him go ahead with this?" Mick turned to Pierre, slack jawed, and incredulous at what he was hearing, "Don't you care that he's going to get himself killed?"

"Mick…"

"No, Josef," Mick was on the verge of shouting, "this whole thing is insane, and you know it. You're the one who's always going on about how devastated you'd be if I died, you don't think it'd be the same for me?"

"Oh for the love of…I'm not going to die, Mick," Josef threw his hands up in sheer frustration, and then paused to gather his thoughts. "If we plan this out properly, it gives us a way to save Roisin's life. She wants to remain human? Fine, she can remain human forever. All we need is a permanent supply of the mortal cure. You know as well as I do that I can't just offer to buy the recipe from the Duvalls, or have them manufacture the quantities we need for a price, not this time, not as Grand Chancellor. Giving up my own fortune under these circumstances would be the definition of insanity. I need that money to retain an image of power. "

"Yeah, ok." Mick hated the fact that on that note at least, Josef was right. As Grand Chancellor he couldn't allow himself to be made a pauper. He had an image to maintain, and besides it wasn't just Josef's fortune alone, not anymore. Josef belonged to the Vampire Nation now, as much as it belonged to him.

"Mick, this will work, I know it will," Josef was openly pleading with Mick then, "if we plan this out properly, the risk is minimal. Lance isn't stupid enough to just behead me on the spot."

"You can't guarantee that."

"Yeah, I can," Josef set a determined gaze on Mick, "I've known him a lot longer than you have. Long enough to know how the man operates."

"Christ, this is nuts." Mick swore under his breath, and averted his eyes for a moment, one leg jiggling nervously as he contemplated the situation.

"Does anybody want to hear what I have to say?" A still, small voice penetrated the uncomfortable silence that had fallen over the room.

"Roisin…"

"…What are you doing here?" Pierre was on his feet, along with Josef, and Mick, "You're supposed to be in hospital."

"It didn't take as long as I expected," Roisin managed a weak smile, and took a few faltering steps towards a seat, "I caught a Taxi back."

"You should have called one of us." Pierre fussed over the pale figure, "Look at you, you look exhausted."

"Pierre's right, you really should go and rest for a while. You don't need to worry about any of this." Mick was speaking then, Josef adding his own concerns to the tail end of the conversation.

"On the contrary. This is about me; it concerns me," Roisin forced herself to sit up as far as she could manage, and gestured a determined hand towards Josef, "I want to hear what he has to say."

"There's a way you can be turned, and still remain human," Josef approached open handed, "The risk is minimal."

"I only have to look at Uncle Mick's face to know that isn't true, Uncle Josef," Roisin pointed out quietly.

"Your Uncle Mick is overreacting,"

Josef tried to wave aside his niece's observation. Roisin held firm.

"That's not true though, is it, Uncle Josef?" it was a rhetorical question, Roisin didn't expect a reply. "Tell me more about this 'mortal cure'."

Very slowly, very carefully, Josef began to speak, stopping every now and then to clarify what he saw as a necessary detail.

"So I'd actually be human?" Roisin cast a wary eye toward her Uncle.

"For all intents and purposes, yes."

"For all intents and purposes," Roisin snorted a wry laugh, and shook her head. "In other words the answer is no."

"It's an approximation of humanity, yes," Josef was determined Roisin would see sense, "but if the choice is between that, or dying, what other choice do you have. This is the closest thing to retaining mortality as a Vampire that we can offer you, Roisin. It's the best we have."

"I'll think about it." Pre-empting her Uncle's readied protest, Roisin stood up, and raised a steadying hand, "And that's the best I can offer you, Uncle Josef."

"Roisin." Josef called after his niece's retreating form, as he watched her turn heel, and take her leave, making her way unsteadily down the corridor towards her room.

"Josef, leave it." Mick was by Josef's side then; arms wrapped around his waist, holding him back, holding him. "Let her go."

"Why the hell does she insist on dying?" Josef made a half-hearted attempt to break free from Mick's embrace.

"Maybe she insists on living." Mick replied quietly.

"I'd better go see how Katherine is." Pierre made his excuses, and slipped away, leaving the two of them alone with their fears, and doubts…

…and each other.

A fortnight passed. Two weeks in which Roisin was no closer to giving Josef the answer he wanted. Josef had taken to questioning her on a daily basis, always the same thing, when would she be ready, had she made a decision yet. And always Roisin had given the same reply, "I need more time."

Time was running out, unlike her family Roisin didn't have forever.

"You're stalling." Mick gently confronted Roisin one night.

"Yeah." For a moment Roisin chewed pensively on her bottom lip, and averted her eyes. And then she was turning to Mick in desperation, pleading, "Why is he doing this, Uncle Mick? I don't understand, he's always known I never wanted to be a Vampire. I'm human, I want to live, and die as a human."

"I know." Mick drew an arm around his niece's shoulder. For a while they just stood there, silent, holding close to each other's presence. And then Mick spoke again. "He loves you, Roisin, we both do. You're the closest thing to a real family Josef's had in the last five hundred years. You know he'll never admit it, but Josef's always wanted kids of his own, man he was jealous when he found out I might have fathered a child before I was turned."

"And," Roisin looked expectantly at her Uncle, relieved at the shift in conversation, "did you?"

"No," Mick smiled, and shook his head, "a DNA test proved otherwise."

"Were you disappointed?"

"A little, I guess."

"Uncle Mick," seeing her opportunity, Roisin waited until she had Mick's undivided attention, "when I'm gone, will you and Uncle Josef take care of Miriam for me?"

For a few moments Mick couldn't speak, couldn't move, couldn't do anything but stand, and stare in wide-eyed disbelief at what he'd just been asked. A thousand and one questions running through his mind, instead Mick found himself smiling, and nodding, "Sure." He didn't know what else to say.

"Well now you can just turn around, and tell her no." Josef looked less than impressed when Mick informed him of recent developments.

"Josef, come on," Mick followed his husband into the kitchen, "this is a pretty big thing Roisin's asking us to do, we can't just refuse outright."

"Sure we can," Josef ignored Mick's imploration, as he breezed past and fetched a glass of juice from the fridge. "She'll come round eventually, Mick. Roisin doesn't want to die, any more than we want her to either. You'll see."

"Josef -"

Josef wasn't listening. Mick stood hands in pocket, and watched forlornly after Josef's retreating form, helpless in the face of his husband's apparent inability to admit the truth of the situation.

"You're worried about him, aren't you?"

Roisin approached her Uncle in the kitchen the following morning, as he busied himself preparing breakfast.

"Your Uncle Josef woke up with a cold," Mick offered by way of explanation as he piled a tray with fresh squeezed orange juice, and assorted pieces of fruit.

"Well you've certainly got enough Vitamin C there to kill a small army of microbes, Uncle Mick," Roisin managed a weak laugh as she leant against the kitchen cupboard, "but you didn't answer my question."

"It's nothing for you to worry about." Mick tried to brush aside Roisin's concerns with a quick smile, and a tender hand patting the side of her arm.

"Don't patronise me," Roisin furrowed her brow in annoyance, and batted her Uncle's hand aside, "I am worried, I have a right to be. You're walking around like the bloody sky's about to fall, and Uncle Josef's acting all crazy. I'm not twelve years old anymore, Uncle Mick," Roisin pleaded for consideration then, "I'm an adult, and a mother, and I'm dying. You and Uncle Josef can't protect me from everything."

"Try telling Josef that," Mick gave a reluctant snort of admittance, and then turned to face his niece direct. "You let me worry about your Uncle Josef. And that's not me patronizing you, Roisin; I've just known your Uncle Josef for a lot longer than you have. He's not used to being confronted by anything he can't throw money, or power at. And besides, I think he feels like he failed you before, with you being forced to spend those years away from us, and everything that happened with Terrence. This is his way of trying to make amends."

"But this isn't what I want, Uncle Mick." Roisin fell back on a familiar lament, "I didn't ask Uncle Josef to do any of this. Don't you get it? For the first time in ages I feel truly happy to be alive, despite everything I'm going through, despite knowing I'll be separated from Miriam after I fought so hard to build a relationship with her, and that's because I am dying. If there's one thing this whole sorry experience has taught me it's that life is precious, because it is fleeting."

"I know, Roisin," Mick scrubbed frustrated fingers across his forehead, and took a moment to steady himself. "I get it, ok? Your Uncle Josef's been a Vampire a lot longer than I have though. I can still remember what it's like to be human, Josef can't. And this latest venture of his doesn't seem to have done much to change that. All Josef sees is you dying, and him being powerless to stop that unless he makes you immortal like us. He loves you Roisin, he wouldn't be doing any of this if he didn't."

"I know," Roisin nodded a quite understanding then, and placed an imploring hand on her Uncle's shoulder. "Talk to him for me, Uncle Mick, please. Make him understand."

"I'll try."

Mick wasn't game enough to broach the subject of Miriam, not then. Clearly there were other matters to take care of first.

A week later Katherine found Mick knee deep in pots, and pans, struggling to take control of a kitchen that seemed determined to defy him at every turn.

"Shit," Mick rushed to salvage a pot of vegetables on the stovetop from boiling over, and managed to send a bowl of prepared chicken stock flying in the process, splashing the walls, and cupboards with thin, yellow liquid.

"A guide to seventeenth century cooking." Katherine picked up the recipe book from the kitchen table, and read its title out loud. And then she was pressing her fist to her mouth, and spluttering with barely controlled amusement. "Mick, what on earth are you trying to do?"

"Chicken soup," Mick turned to face Katherine, hands set doggedly on hips, looking less than impressed at being on the receiving end of Katherine's obvious merriment toward his current predicament, "isn't that what you're supposed to make someone when they're not well?"

"You know it usually helps if you manage to get at least some of it in a bowl," Katherine gently teased, as she pushed Mick aside, and proceeded to help rescue the remainder.

"Yeah, very funny."

"Josef still feeling poorly then is he?" Katherine shifted her tone to one of gentle concern, and ignored Mick's rancour.

"Yeah, he is," Mick shoved hands in pockets, and shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. "And besides, I'm kind of trying to make up for the way I yelled at him the other day."

Once it had been established that Josef's snuffle-nosed complaints of imminent death might at least have had some basis to them, although Mick was quick to point out that people didn't generally die from the common cold, he had been given a small hand bell, to be rung anytime he might require Mick's attendance. Mick had figured it would allow Josef the option of not having to drag himself out of bed every time he wanted something. After all, bed rest, and plenty of vitamin C was usually the treatment of choice for the common cold. That, and chicken soup, lots of fresh, homemade chicken soup, or so Mick remembered.

And really, Mick did have to admit Josef had only been following directions when he began to ring that damn bell incessantly, non-stop, for every conceivable reason he could think of, no matter how small.

His pillows needed fluffing, he couldn't reach the box of tissues on the nightstand less than an arms length away from him, the bed covers were too hot, too cold, too heavy, the mattress he was lying on was uncomfortable, he wanted more juice.

Eventually Mick had had enough. Flying upstairs in a fit of rage, he had wrenched the offending object from Josef's hand, and thrown it clear out the bedroom window, onto the street below.

"Right," Mick had proceeded to yell with blind annoyance, as he shoved a box of tissues into Josef's hand, and then poured half a bottle of Vitamin C down his throat, followed by a stiff chaser of cough medicine, "there's your box of tissues, you've got juice next to the bed, I've given you your vitamins, and cough medicine, and for God's sake you can fluff your own damn pillows for once, your arms aren't broken."

With that Mick had turned heel, and stormed from the room, leaving a bewildered Josef cowering in his wake.

"You probably were a little hard on him," Katherine conceded, before flashing Mick a wry smile, "but if you hadn't done it, I probably would have. That damn bell was driving me mad."

Mick managed a brief laugh, and then he was listening to Katherine speak her reassurances.

"I'll take care of everything down here, you just go spend some time with him Mick, make sure everything's ok. I'll bring some soup up just as soon as it's ready."

"Maybe I'll take him up some more orange juice in the meantime."

"He'll appreciate that, I'm sure." Katherine lilted in her singsong Irish voice, as she bustled Mick out of the Kitchen. "Now go."

As soon as Mick stepped into the room, he knew something was wrong.

The bed covers in disarray, Josef lay sprawled, face up in the middle of the bed, beads of sweat formed on his forehead as he struggled to breathe.

Mick took one look at the bluish cast that seemed to have fallen across his husband's complexion, the wadded up piles of tissues tinged with blood stained sputum lying strewn around his form, and felt instant fear, and blind panic coursing through his veins.

"Katherine." The glass of juice in Mick's hand slid from his fingers to shatter across the polished wooden floorboards below, as he yelled for assistance, and then rushed to Josef's side.

Katherine couldn't remember the last time she had heard anyone calling her name with that much desperation. Whatever had happened, Mick sounded beyond terrified.

"What is it, what's wrong?" An apron tied around her waist, and vegetable knife still in hand, Katherine raced to Mick's side.

"I think we need to call a Doctor." Mick had propped Josef up, and held him in a seated position now. One hand soothing circles across Josef's back, the other occasionally pausing to wipe the perspiration from Josef's brow, as Mick listened fearfully to the cracked wheezing sounds of Josef fighting for every intake of breath.

"Forget calling a Doctor, Mick," Josef's condition was plain for Katherine to see, the situation looked dire. "I think we'd better call an ambulance."


	12. Chapter 11

"I want guards posted along the corridor, and directly outside this door. No one but immediate family, and medical staff is to be allowed through."

"Mick," Pierre could be seen rushing down the hall way, "I got here as soon as I could. How is he?"

"Stable, for now at least." Mick paused to circle the pads of his fingers across his temples, trying to massage away the throbbing that he found there.

"Did they say…?"

"Pneumonia, apparently. They've started him on antibiotic treatment. I'm just setting up a security detail."

"Very good, your Excellency." Pierre gave a curt bow, keen to define Mick as the one in charge to those who milled around them.

"Cut the formality bullshit, Pierre," Mick waved aside Pierre's efforts, and cast a look of disapproval, "I don't need you trying to stand on ceremony with me, ok? Just call me Mick."

"Very well - Mick." Pierre chortled at Mick's egalitarian insistence. And then his manner shifted to one of concern, "You look exhausted. I can take care of things here if you want to go back the apartment for a while, maybe grab a bit of freezer time. Is there anything Josef needs?"

"No," Mick smiled at the offer, and then shook his head, "Katherine's taking care of all that. And thanks for the offer, but I think I'm just gonna stay here for a while – in case Josef needs me." Mick gestured towards the hospital room door, "Roisin's in there now, I'll probably go and sit with him myself in a moment."

"As you wish." Pierre deferred to Mick's judgement, and then placed a concerned hand on Mick's shoulder. "Please make sure you take care of yourself as well though, Mick. I don't need the both of you out of action."

"Yeah, I know." Mick's façade of stoicism began to crack as he slumped into a nearby chair, "How the hell did this happen? I was so sure it was just a cold."

"It probably was to start off with," Pierre pulled up a seat alongside, and sat down. "After nearly five hundred years though, Josef doesn't have much in the way of natural immunity. Any sort of illness, or infection was bound to turn deadly. That's one of the risks the mortal cure carries, sometimes it appears those who suffer no ill effects do so by chance alone. You couldn't have known any of this, Mick. I know you, don't go blaming yourself."

"Yeah, I know," Mick nodded a reluctant agreement, teeth working distractedly across the pad of his thumb. "He kept telling me he was sick, though. He complained, and I didn't listen, I yelled at him."

"Mick," Pierre snorted a brief laugh, and rested his hand on Mick's arm, "since when did Josef not complain about being human again? He's done nothing but since he took the mortal cure. You took the cure once, and you were fine. A cold is usually just a cold; you couldn't be expected to know it was going to turn into something else."

"I know," Mick took an unneeded breath, rested his head back against the wall behind, and then let out another reluctant sigh of agreement. "I just…"

"…I have to go." Pierre gently interrupted Mick's self reproach, "are you sure there's nothing else I can do, anything you need?"

"My husband to be well, and not lying in a hospital bed?" Mick's attempt at light heartedness then failed miserably; the words came out with a sorrowful edge. Mick forced a smile, and then waved them aside. "I'm fine, we're fine; everything's being taken care of, but thank you."

"Anytime," Pierre stood, and offered Mick a gentlemanly bow. "You lead the Vampire Nation now, it is my honour, and my duty to ensure the best for both of you. And besides, by virtue of marriage, we're family." For a moment Pierre adopted a more casual affect, and then he was placing another hand on Mick's arm, and speaking a gentle instruction. "Go to him, sit with him, listen to him kvetch about the limits of mortality. Everything that needs to be taken care of will be taken care of. You have my word."

Goodbyes were exchanged, another quick round of reassurances, and gratitude given in turn. And the Pierre took his leave.

"Uncle Mick," Roisin greeted her Uncle's appearance with a start, "is there any news? What have the Doctors said?"

"He'll be fine," adopting a confident smile Mick walked over to where his niece now sat, concern etched across her features as she studied her Uncle sleeping in the hospital bed alongside, and rested her hand atop his. "He has Pneumonia. He just needs plenty of bed rest, and antibiotics, and he'll be up and about in no time."

Roisin heard the quaver in her Uncle's voice. He was just as concerned as she was, and trying hard not to let it show.

"That's great news, Uncle Mick," Roisin mustered a smile for her Uncle's benefit, "you must be relieved."

"Yeah, well," Mick busied himself checking levels, and adjusting hospital equipment, "he's not out of the woods yet, but at least we know we're headed in the right direction."

"Do you know what you're doing?" Roisin's face wrinkled with curiosity.

"The monitors, and stuff?" Mick shrugged, and pulled up a seat next to Roisin's. "Some of it. I was a Medic in the army, before I became a Vampire, remember."

Mick took a moment to deliver another swift, mental kick. His past training alone should have alerted him to any dangers, and what was he thinking when he'd suggested they call a Doctor, instead of sending for an Ambulance straight away.

Just then, Josef stirred. Mick turned to Roisin. "Can you give us a moment? I'd like to speak with your Uncle, alone."

"Sure," Roisin nodded her understanding. "I might head back now anyway. I'm a little tired, and I want to spend some time with Miriam, before I get some rest."

Mick stood for a moment, and extended his hand towards Roisin. Accepting Mick's consideration with a grateful smile, Roisin allowed her Uncle to help her to her feet, and then drew her arms around his neck in a brief embrace.

Mick watched his niece go, and then turned his attention back to the figure on the bed.

"How are you feeling?" Mick sat back down, and drew his chair up as close as it would go.

"Weak, and human," Josef spat miserably, as he tugged at the oxygen mask covering his face.

"Leave that on," Mick batted Josef's hand aside, and then took Josef's hand in his. "We need to talk."

"Great," Josef muttered under his breath, and then drew the line of his mouth into a fictitious smile. "Before you start, if you're planning to chew me out about anything, try and be gentle. In case you haven't noticed, I happen to be lying in a hospital bed, sick."

As if to prove his point, Josef dissolved into a fit of coughing.

"Just listen to me for a moment, ok? " Mick looked on with concern, as he waited for the fit to subside, and then tightened his grip on Josef's hand. "I love you, more than anything else in this world, but if you pull a stunt like this again, I will walk. No questions, no discussion, I'll walk. Is that clear?"

"Crystal," Josef wanted to reply cynically. Instead he sized up the fear, and worries on Mick's face, and realised Mick meant what he said. Immediately Josef shifted apologetic. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you like this. I just…I didn't mean to have you worry about me, Mick. I just wanted to do something to help Roisin."

"I know." Behind Josef's apology, Mick heard his plea for consideration. He bought Josef's fingers to his lips, and then thought back to the embrace he had shared with Roisin. Her body has felt frail, and bony next to his. He was almost glad Josef had been asleep for most of her visit, whatever treatments she was undertaking it was clear Roisin's condition continued to deteriorate. Josef would have to face the inevitable at some stage, but for now he needed to rest.

Josef dissolved into another violent fit of coughing, straining to breathe at the end.

"I'll get the Doctor." Mick prepared to hurry from the room. Josef held him back.

"No, I'm fine." Slowly, Josef's laboured breathing seemed to ease. "Just come here, and lie next to me. I could do with a little company."

Mick hesitated, as Josef shifted to make room, and then carefully climbed in alongside.

"You should try and get some sleep."

"I will. Are you still planning to be here when I wake up?"

"I don't know," Mick propped himself up on one shoulder, and gave Josef a teasing grin, "are you planning to turn yourself human again, and almost die in the process?"

"Not in the foreseeable future."

Mick rested his head against Josef's shoulder, and drew an arm across his chest.

"Then I'll be here."

* * *

Sometime during the night Mick had shifted from Josef's side to the chair next to his hospital bed. It had been just over a week since Josef was first admitted. Mick had kept an almost constant bedside vigil the entire time. Taking only the occasional break for important things like making sure his blood intake was satisfactory and catching up on Freezer time.

Mick stirred where he half lay, half sat, a jacket pulled over him. He would need an extra bag of blood, or two, when he awoke. For now though he seemed content to find a position that would afford him at least a modicum of comfort in his semi-wakened state.

"You know I don't know why, but I'm having the strangest sense of dejavu right now."

Mick awoke with a start to the sound of a familiar voice.

"Ryder England."

"That's my name; try not to wear it out."

Still the same old tongue in cheek Ryder, Mick thought, as he staggered to his feet blinking back layers of restless sleep, and then halted. It had been a long time, too long since they had last spoken. Not since…

Reading the expression on Mick's face, Ryder pre-empted the awkward conversation they were about to have with a quick nod, and an open gestured smile. He understood; it was ok. The past was buried; they needn't discuss it any further.

The ice broken, Mick let out an audible sigh of relief, and stepped forward to embrace an old friend, before launching into a series of rapid fire questions, "what had he been doing these past twenty odd years", "where was he living now, how did he know about Josef being in hospital?"

"One thing at a time, Mick." Ryder laughed, and then held up a placating hand to try and stem the onslaught. "I'm living back here now; Chicago actually, picked up a gig with a local business company, high end tech products, that sort of thing. I help them keep up with the competition…"

Mick laughed at Ryder's euphemistic turn of phrase, which translated into every day speech meant 'hacker for hire'.

"…As for how I knew about Josef," Ryder paused for effect, and then moved towards the door, standing as if was preparing to invite someone in. "Let's just say I spent some recent holiday time I had owing to me in Paris."

The first glimpse Mick caught of Lestat was a single stockinged calf tapering down to what Mick presumed was supposed to be a delicately pointed foot clad in ballet slippers.

"_Oh dear god don't let him be wearing a tutu, please don't let him be wearing a tutu._" Mick crossed his fingers, and silently prayed.

And then Lestat was bursting through the open doorway in a flurry of jazz hands, and sequins. None, thankfully, that were attached to a tutu, Mick noted, although he wasn't all that sure the Diana Ross number Lestat was attired in instead was that much of an improvement.

"Sugar pie honey bunch," Lestat sashayed over to where Mick stood, and kissed him warmly on both cheeks, "you know that I love you."

"Lestat," Mick shook his head, and stifled the first genuine laugh he had felt since Josef was first admitted, "I can always count on you to make an entrance."

"Oh call me Leonard," Leonard flourished a dismissive hand, "I got bored with the whole 'Lestat' thing."

Mick was about make some tongue in cheek comment about swapping life as a fictional Vampire for a cabaret act, when he saw his friend's expression soften, turning serious for the moment.

"How is he?" Leonard gestured towards the prone figure on the hospital bed.

"Better, much better. They're hoping to release him in another week or so."

Ryder and Leonard saw straight through Mick's charade, sensing a river of guilt, and concern that flowed beneath the surface.

"And how are you?" Ryder placed a worried hand on Mick's shoulder.

"Me? Yeah I'm ok, hanging in there, you know how it is," Mick quickly combed his fingers through his hair, and tried to smooth the slept in creases from his clothes. "He's not asleep by the way, he's just pretending. I think he probably got sick of me asking if he was alright every five minutes, and decided to feign unconsciousness instead."

Mick laughed then, a hollow sound devoid of any real merriment

"You know you two become more alike each time I see you," it was Leonard's turn to speak then, gesturing once more to the figure on the bed, "that sounded just like something he would say." And then he was clapping his hands together in a fit of determined mirth. "What say the four of us get out of here for a few hours, find some fine scotched veins to tap, sing badly sung show tunes whilst staggering along Sunset Boulevard."

Leonard executed a perfect pirouette, and finished with an overly dramatic bow.

Mick appeared not to notice, his gaze fixed on Josef instead as he pressed the pad of this thumb nervously against the edges of his upper teeth. "I don't know, I don't think so. I don't want to leave him for too long. It's bad enough I have to catch up on Freezer time every couple of nights, I just can't…"

"Mick," again Leonard's manner shifted serious for the moment, "honey, you're starting to ramble. Don't you think you should take a break? I'm sure there are plenty of people here more than capable of looking after your beloved for a few scant hours."

_Looking after his beloved…?_

Realisation dawned on Mick then. How the hell had both Ryder and Leonard managed to get past the guards when there were explicit instructions as to who was allowed through, and who wasn't.

"God fucking damnit." Mick was cursing under his breath then, and storming from the room in a fit of anger, a bewildered looking Ryder and Leonard following behind.

"Who the fuck let them in?" Mick had a terrified guard by the scruff of the neck, shaking him like a rag doll, the back of his skull slamming violently against the wall behind him with every pass. "Was it you? Answer me!"

"Mick," Ryder tried to quell the situation, approaching cautiously with hand outstretched. "Mick, he's not going to be able to answer anything if you knock him out cold."

"I'm sorry Sir, your Excellency, Sir, I'm sorry, I didn't…they said they were friends of yours sir, I never, I mean I didn't…." The guard was a mere neophyte, a fledgling barely out of the training stages. A bubble of snot blew from his nose as he burst into tears, certain his lack of vigilance had earned him a death sentence.

Mick seemed to get a hold of himself then, stepping back and taking a moment to calm himself further before holding up a steadying hand, and trying to reassure the hysterical boy in front of him.

"Ok, it's ok, there was no harm done. Just next time…"

"It won't happen again Sir, your Excellency, Sir," the young guard shook with visible relief at Mick's sudden turnabout of emotions, "I'm so sorry, Sir."

Ryder and Leonard looked on with increasing concern as they watched Mick slump against the wall opposite. The fact that he appeared to have gone from near rogue levels of frothing at the mouth outrage, to his current, apparent state of calm did not appear to bode well when it came to Mick's state of mind. It was clear to them both; the man was exhausted beyond all reason.

"It's ok," Mick muttered half to himself, eyes downcast, a tired hand waved dismissively through the air in front of him, before he looked at the still shaken guard. "Who gave you this position anyway? You're nowhere near experienced enough for the job. I can't afford inexperienced mistakes, not where my husband's life is concerned. Understood?"

"Perfectly, Sir," the guard nodded his affirmation, before standing to attention. "And it was my Sire who gave me the position, your Excellency. He's a member of the Order, Sir, one of the high ranked officials working directly under the Grand Chancellor's command, Sir. He thought this would be good practice for me, Sir, as well as a great honor."

Mick didn't bother to ask for a name, it seemed a moot point at that stage. He was sure somewhere in the Grand Chancellor's 'how to' manual there was probably a detailed passage regarding the execution of overly ambitious, high ranking officials determined to thrust their protégé front and centre. Mick didn't want that. He'd had enough of the spectre of death looming over him everywhere he looked.

"I understand," Mick forced a smile then, his previous anger having all but dissipated, "You're doing a good job under the circumstances. All the same I think you need some back up. I'm sorry about before, by the way, I didn't mean to…"

"…It's ok, Sir," the Guard seemed to relax then, "I probably would have done the same under the circumstances."

Mick forced another smile, and gave a brief nod, taking a moment to make a mental note to talk to Pierre about the guard arrangements; clearly there had been a miscommunication somewhere along the line.

And then he was pulling his Cell phone out of his jeans pocket, and making a series of hurried phone calls, barking orders to people on the other end of the line.

At that stage both Leonard, and Ryder were convinced their prior offer had expired, if it had ever been considered at all. Still, they decided it was worth at least one more attempt. 'For Mick's sake', their wordless exchange of glances seemed to imply.

"Mick…"

The rest of Ryder's sentence was cut short, as Mick interjected with a clear, "No."

"Mick, come on," it was Leonard's turn then, "you've got back up coming. The way you've been taking command the last five minutes you'll have this placed sealed up tighter than Fort Knox. Josef will be ok without you for a short while at least, why don't we…?"

"Didn't you hear me," Mick scrubbed a frustrated hand over his face, the determination in his voice evident, "I said 'no'."

"Mick…" a hospital gowned figure appeared in the hallway then, dragging an array of machinery behind him.

"…Josef," ignoring the others, Mick rushed to Josef's side, "You shouldn't be out of bed, what are you doing?"

"Listening to you stomp about," Josef commented drolly as Mick brushed the back of a concerned hand along the line of his jaw, "You know if I wanted to be entertained by Nellie by the Elephant while I attempted to rest, I would have made arrangements with Barnum and Bailey."

"Sorry." Mick chewed pensively on his bottom lip for a moment, before moving to try and take Josef by the arm, intent on helping him back to bed.

"Mick, for the love of immortality I can walk by myself." Josef shook Mick off in a fit of annoyance.

"I'm…"

"…Apologise to me one more time, Mick," Josef left the rest of his veiled threat hanging in the air unspoken. And then he was climbing back into bed, adjusting the covers, his back propped against two pillows set behind him. If they didn't know any better, Ryder and Leonard would have thought Josef had decided to hold court, or at the very least call for a manicure.

"Right, now," Josef smoothed the bedclothes with his hand, and adjusted his position slightly, before turning his attention to the other two Vampires in the room, and waving them over. "Ryder, Leonard, it's good to see you."

"Likewise."

Greetings were received, hugs exchanged, a veritable whirlwind backlog of news and gossip shared in turn. Throughout it all Mick stood silent, and morose.

"And just what, exactly, are you supposed to be?" Josef gestured towards Leonard's attire.

Leonard struck a dramatic pose, "The divine Ms Diana Ross, circa 1967. You like?"

"Looks more like Cruella Deville on a bad acid trip to me." Josef threw back with a wry grin.

"Oh hardy ha ha, your comedian Excellency, Sir." Leonard pretended to bow, and scrape.

"Mick," Josef called Mick over to his side then, making room for him to sit down on the bed next to him. "I heard the entire exchange you know, and I don't need to be a Vampire to see that others, besides me, are beginning to worry about you. For Christ sake Mick, have you looked at yourself lately?" Josef waggled a determined finger. "You, need a break."

"Josef I can't just leave…"

"…Oh I'm sorry," Josef replied flippantly, "Were you under the impression that I was merely voicing my opinion on the matter?"

"You're ordering me to go?" Mick looked incredulous.

"Yes," again that same determined finger pointed in Mick's direction, "that's exactly what I'm doing."

"But…"

"…No 'buts', Mick," Josef softened then, gripping the back of Mick's neck, and drawing Mick into his space, their foreheads rested one against the other, "I can't be lying here trying to recuperate, and worry about you at the same time. Now will you please take a decent break?"

"Ok."

Mick's response was barely above a whisper, but it was all Josef needed to hear. Exchanging a silent vow of love, he gently pushed Mick away, and then turned his attention back to Ryder, and Leonard.

"Get him out of here, before he changes his mind."

* * *

"So then he sticks his tongue down my throat…"

"Hey," Mick managed to pull his head off the table long enough to launch a bleary eyed protest at the conversation taking place. "Can we talk about something else, please?"

"Oh come on," swaying slightly in his seat, Ryder nudged Mick sitting next to him, "you gotta admit it was pretty funny when you think about it."

"Well I'm glad you found my pain so amusing." Mick slurred indignantly, before putting his head back down, and resting his chin on his forearms.

"Mick…" Ryder placed a clumsy arm around Mick's shoulders then, and leaned into him, intent on offering more drunken reassurances.

Leonard interjected, he wasn't sure he could sit through another round of 'We're leaving it all behind us' followed by a rousing chorus of 'I love you like a brother'.

"Don't you go getting all morose on us now," Leonard pretended to waggle a serious finger in Mick's direction, and tried not to chuckle too obviously at the one eyed expression Mick was giving him, "I can't afford another ten rounds of Chateau du Freshie, darling."

Mick muttered something about being sorry, and then raised his head, looking around as if he couldn't quite figure out where they were, or how he had gotten there. "I need to get back to Josef. He's probably wondering where…"

"He knows where you are, sugar. You told him before you left where we were headed. You even gave him Ryder's number, the number of this establishment, your own Cell phone number, again, and my number to call if there were any unforeseen emergencies, remember?"

"Then why hasn't he called," Mick's face contorted in a haze of drunken confusion.

"Ah…" Leonard decided not to point out the obvious. And then he was rushing to Mick's assistance as Mick attempted to stand, and walk on his own volition, managed two steps, leant into a staggering run, and banged head first into the wall opposite, taking out a table and two chairs in the process.

"I think that's our cue to make a not quite so dramatic exit." Leonard helped Mick to his feet, and then turned around, bending his knees slightly, and looking over his shoulder as he gestured to Mick to, "climb aboard."

"Okay," Mick's expression fell mortified, and then he was speaking very slowly, and carefully, taking great care to enunciate each word, his sentence punctuated by a series of plaintive hand gestures, "I'm like really flattered…"

"…No, honey," Leonard spluttered as he struggled to keep it together, "not 'climb aboard' like that."

"Oh, okay."

Ryder looked on in howls of laughter as Mick wrapped his arms around Leonard's neck, and made the first of several aborted attempts to clamber onto Leonard's back.

"Where are we going?" Mick slurred against the side of Leonard's face when he had finally managed to conquer Mount Everest.

"To see Josef, like you wanted." Leonard felt the heels of Mick's feet kick against his legs, "Yes honey, I know. Giddy up."

Five minutes later they were out the door, and headed down Main Street.

"My my my De-vampire." Mick drunkenly belted out his own rendition of an old Tom Jones number as Leonard piggy backed him along the street.

"How much did he have to drink?" Ryder mouthed to Leonard. He wasn't exactly stone cold sober himself, but still he was nowhere near the state Mick had managed to get himself into.

Leonard merely responded with the raise of an eyebrow, as he ignored the curious stares of passers-by.

After what felt like an age, they finally reached their destination. "6th Floor, Respiratory Wing. Going up." Leonard announced in a falsetto operator's voice as the doors of the Elevator closed behind them. He put Mick down then, taking care to keep a steady arm around Mick's shoulders, although by that stage it seemed Mick was at least capable of performing the necessary basics of ambulation.

As soon as they stepped into the corridor, they knew something was wrong. Overhead they could hear the drone of an automated voice system; Doctors and Nurses seemed to materialise from nowhere, all rushing towards a single point.

_Josef…_

"Josef!" Suddenly capable of coordinated movement, Mick took off running at vamp speed, before Ryder or Leonard had a chance to stop him.

"Sir, there's no need to…" One of the guards tried to step in, hands held palm up in a gesture of reassurance.

Without thinking Mick grabbed the guard by the scruff of his neck, and threw him the full length of the hallway. And then he was crashing, reeling into Josef's hospital room.

It took Josef less than a second to realise one, Mick thought they were calling an alert code for him, and two, Mick was completely vamped out. He began making frantic cutting motions with a finger sliced across his throat; not everyone present in the room knew their secret.

"Mick…"

"…Josef," his Vampire in check, but still not comprehending that it wasn't Josef who needed assistance, Mick rushed to Josef's side, and began taking a frantic inventory of vital areas. "What happened, are you okay, can you breathe…"

"Mick, I'm o-"

"- Are you hurt anywhere, what about pain, are you having any pain, is it your…?"

"Mick!"

"What?"

Josef's snap toned command seemed to break through the haze of Mick's inebriated anxiety. And then he was directing Mick's gaze toward the hitherto unnoticed scene unfolding on the floor in front of them.

"She was keeping me company while you were out," Josef gestured towards the figure of Roisin propped against the wall opposite, looking pale and clammy whilst medical staff struggled to get a line in, "she collapsed just before you came in."

"But you're okay." Mick turned to Josef, hoping to have that statement of fact backed up with further reassurances; instead he was met with Josef's unbridled indignation.

"Yes, Mick," under the circumstances Josef was finding it difficult to pepper his words with the required amount of sarcasm, "our beloved Roisin lies dying on the floor in front of us, but I'm okay. Yes, great, thank you…"

The sound of one of the Doctor's voices, reassuring him - Roisin was fine, Roisin would be ok, she was dehydrated that's all, once they got a line in they would give her some fluids – gave Josef enough time to access the condition Mick was in.

"…Wait, are you drunk?"

Mick's initial response amounted to little more than 'pfft', and then he was shifting defensive, his own indignation presented in the form of a slurred, and high pitched, "You're the one who told me to take a break."

"Take a break, not wipe yourself off the face of the earth."

"We're ready to move her now." Any potential for a full scale argument was halted then, the nurse who had spoken choosing not to make comment on the situation in front of her, as Josef continued to glower at Mick, "We'll shift her downstairs; she'll be on the general medical ward for a few days."

"Thank you." Josef acknowledged the nurse with a polite nod, grateful for her interruption deep down. He really wasn't in the mood to fight. Seeing Ryder and Leonard hovering in the doorway Josef waved them off with a quick smile, and a mouthed reassurance that everything was okay, and then turned his attention to Mick now crawling unsteadily from one end of the bed to the other. "Mick…"

_Take me home_, Josef wanted to plead. He was sick of being surrounded by death, sick of all the reminders of human frailty, sick of being mortal himself.

Mick had already passed out.

"Great," Josef muttered through clenched teeth. Resisting the urge to shove Mick onto the floor out of sheer spite, Josef settled alongside him instead, noting the time on the wall clock, before he fell into a restless sleep.

_Less than eight hours to daybreak…_

Everything would be different in the morning. In the morning he would leave all this behind.

* * *

Mick stirred just after dawn, emerging slowly from layers of sleep. Josef's blurred image was barely discernible as Mick opened his eyes, and sat up groggily; blinked once, then twice, his hands scrubbing over his face.

"What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing, Mick?"

Mick's mouth tasted like grit, his head still foggy from the night before. And then Josef's image was swimming into full view. Suddenly Mick was awake, very awake; registering what he saw before him. Josef was out of bed, dressed, and packing a suitcase.

"What the hell are you thinking?" Mick tried to stand, felt the lack of clean blood rushing to his head, and promptly sank back onto the bed.

"I'm thinking I might go home, Mick." Josef ignored Mick's condition as he continued to busy himself folding underwear, and clothes.

"You can't," Mick made another attempt to stand, coordinated his movements a little better that time, "Josef, you're not well enough."

"I feel fine." Josef brushed Mick's imploration aside.

"No, you're not," Mick stood in front of Josef then, gesturing a frantic hand, "Josef you know what the Doctors have said, you're not well enough to leave for at least another week."

Josef pursed his lips, cocked his head in that disobedient, patronising way that always got under Mick's skin.  
_  
__Do go on, I'll just pretend to listen._

Mick took a moment to steady himself, dampening his annoyance.

"I'd never forgive myself if anything happened to you."

"Christ, Mick, I could get a hangnail, and you'd never forgive yourself." Josef quipped, and rolled his eyes; he had worked to do, Mick was getting in the way. "Now scat."

Josef made as if to shoo Mick away from him, and then returned to his task at hand.

The idea of using his Vampiric strength to his advantage had already crossed Mick's mind, and was just as hastily dismissed; somehow he sensed it would be more trouble than what it was worth. Instead Mick sat at on the edge of the hospital bed, and watched helplessly as Josef seemed determined to put his life at risk.

Josef had finished packing, doing up the zipper on the suitcase. And then he was walking over to Mick; his movements uncharacteristically sharp, even for him.

Josef sat down next to Mick then, rolled up his sleeve, began to tug at the plaster holding his disconnected drip line in place.

"Josef, don't," Mick tried to protest, saliva welling in his mouth as he watched Josef pull the needle from his arm, and scented the first droplets of blood.

"You need to feed, Mick." The blood flowing freely now, Josef offered his arm, waved it under Mick's nose, tempting him with the copper smell.

Mick closed his eyes, tried to shut out the rushing sound of blood as it flowed through Josef's veins, tried not to think of the rich, red liquid as it stained Josef's flesh crimson. His resistance gave way as he reached for Josef's arm on autopilot, licked the red from his skin, and then sank his fangs into the nearest vein he could find.

"That's it," Josef soothed his encouragement, stroked a hand over the top of Mick's head as Mick whimpered, and mewled, and sucked at the blood flowing from his arm.

Already Mick could feel his head clearing; the fog lifting now, the heaviness gone. He'd drunk his fill then, wouldn't risk taking anymore, not in Josef's weakened state.

Mick carefully withdrew his fangs from Josef's arms, and decided to appeal once more to reason.

"Josef…"

"…Mick, I just want to go home."

Josef sounded almost sorrowful as he spoke those words.

"Ok." against his better judgement, Mick nodded his agreement, and then he was pointing a determined finger in Josef's face, "But. I take you home, you go straight to bed, you do not move. Is that understood?"

"Yes Dad." Josef grinned, lapping at the blood that still flowed from the two small puncture wounds in his arm.

Mick forced a smile, tried to share in Josef's sense of humour. "What about Roisin?" he asked then.

"She's made her decision." Josef's manner shifted abrupt, his voice cold as he stood up, brushed a hand along the front of his shirt, and then went to pick up the suitcase lying on the table next to the bed.

"Here, I've got that," Mick rushed to Josef's aid, only to find his help wasn't needed.

"No. I've got it, thanks Mick."

Mick watched then as Josef strode out the door, moving with those same prior uncharacteristically stiff movements he'd seen only a few moments earlier.

Mick tented his fingers in a pyramid against his lips, closed his eyes, said a quick prayer, and then followed after his husband.

Back home, Katherine's concern was immediately apparent, as she watched Josef saunter through the door, seemingly without a care in the world, whilst a grim faced Mick followed close behind.

Josef was putting on an act; that much was evident. He looked tired, and drawn; his skin still pale.

"Mick, what the hell?" Katherine mouthed, and gestured open-handed when Josef's back was turned.

Mick flashed Katherine a quick look, his expression imploring her not to say anything out loud. Josef needed to rest, the sooner that happened, the sooner he could relax. They would talk later.

Upstairs Mick settled Josef into bed, Josef kvetching all the while as he complained about potential boredom, and needled for Mick to join him.

"If I have to sit up here in misery, the least you could do is come be miserable with me." Josef propped his back against the pillows, and folded his arms across his chest.

Mick nodded his assent, slipped in alongside Josef then, pulling the bed sheets over both of them.

"Better?"

"Much." Josef shifted into Mick's arms, his body momentarily racked by a fit of coughing.

"Josef…"

Mick tried to express his concern, only to find Josef cutting him off with a hastily muttered "I'm fine," Mick's concerns brushed aside with the wave of a hand.

"Christ. No you're not," Mick kicked his heel into the mattress in sheer frustration, "Josef…Man, you should be in hospital. Let me take you back, please."

"They wouldn't have let me leave if I was in mortal danger, Mick." Josef protested

"You signed yourself out against medical advice."

"Mick," Josef was shifting further into Mick's space then, one leg draped over Mick's thighs, his palm stroking a caress along the side of Mick's face as he nuzzled his head under Mick's chin, "I'm sick of being surrounded by constant reminders of death and mortality. I just want to be home here, with you, and Katherine."

_"And Roisin__,_" Mick silently added, decided then not to make an issue of it.

"Alright," Mick swallowed his doubts, and pressed his lips against the top of Josef's forehead. "Try and get some sleep at least."

Josef half mumbled an acknowledgment, already beginning to drift.

Katherine confronted Mick downstairs later that evening, her own concern weighing heavily as she grabbed Mick's forearm, and demanded to know what was going on.

Mick waited for Katherine to let go, offering her a crooked smile when she cleared her throat, and looked a little embarrassed.

They sat down together in the lounge.

"He's not coping, Katherine," Mick tried to keep the tremor from his voice as he rubbed a weary hand across his brow, "this thing with Roisin, he's taking it pretty hard."

"_He'__s_ not coping," Katherine threw up her hands, sat back against the cushions of the sofa; her Irish lilt cracking as her voice raised a full octave. "She's _my_ daughter, Mick. Miriam is my Grandchild."

"I know," Mick sat forward then, his elbows rested on his knees, hands clasped against his forehead. "Josef loves her too you know, we both do. You know what he's like; he already feels he failed her once."

"So, what, now he's failing everybody to make up for it?" Katherine averted her eyes, took a few deep breaths, blinked back tears of worry and frustration. "I've got enough on my plate as it is; I don't need to be worrying about him as well."

"Good thing I can do enough worrying for the both of us then." Mick tried to lighten the mood with a self-deprecating joke.

"What ever would we do without your maudlin outlook to carry our burdens, Mick?" Katherine snorted a weak laugh, and then slapped a hand on her thigh. "Right", she stood up then, waggling a determined finger in Mick's face, "You are going to go upstairs, have a shower, and then hit the freezer. And yes I'll help you shift it into Josef's room, because I know that's what you're going to ask."

What about you?" Mick asked.

"Me?" Katherine drew herself up to her full height, and threw her chin out determined then. "I'm going to have a word with my Sire."


	13. Chapter 12a

**Authors Note: **This is not the whole chapter. I wanted to at least post what I had, rather than keep readers waiting any longer. My apologies for the lack of timely updates to this fic - RL has been kicking my arse a bit lately - and thank you to those who are still reading for your patience.

* * *

"Are you doing anything tomorrow night?" Josef shoveled another forkful of scrambled eggs into his mouth, and took a sip from the glass of orange juice Mick had placed on his bedside cabinet.

Mick hadn't broached the subject of Josef with Katherine again, after last night. It was clear when she emerged two hours later, after heading off so bold and insistent, that she'd had about as much luck talking to Josef as what he'd had.

"I don't know," sitting on the end of the bed, Mick shrugged, "I didn't have anything planned; Pierre's taking care of most of the Order's business. Why?"

Josef shoveled in another mouthful, hardly stopping to taste the breakfast Mick had prepared; food was little more than a fuel source, he'd concluded. "You can change me back," Josef stabbed at a piece of wayward bacon on his plate, "I'm done with this whole humanity trip, all I seem to do is eat, drink, sleep and shit; it's pathetic."

"Are you sure you're well enough." Mick raised immediate concerns, the whole reason Josef hadn't been turned back by now was the precarious state of his health.

"Talk to Pierre if you're uncertain," Josef brushed Mick aside, and changed the subject. "What's the latest on Lance, any news?"

"Nothing to report," Mick ignored Josef's brusqueness; he wasn't in the mood for risking an argument at that time of the morning. "Maybe we underestimated his desire for power."

"Or maybe we underestimated the Vampire nation's love for Roisin," Josef placed the breakfast tray on his lap to one side, and climbed out of bed; intent on dressing for the day ahead. "It's largely thanks to her efforts we no longer have to contend with the Legion. Lance will be looking to get Vamps on side; going after me when Roisin is going through her current ordeal wouldn't have exactly won him any favours."

"You're probably right," Mick couldn't help but notice the way Josef had swallowed a lump of emotion each time he'd said Roisin's name; he might have been able to fool himself, but it was plain to everyone else he was struggling now more than ever, with accepting his niece's decision. "Still doesn't hurt to keep an eye on things. Hey, you shouldn't be out of bed either."

Mick reached for Josef then; his arm drawn around Josef's shoulders, ready to guide him back to bed.

"For the love of immortality, Mick," Josef snapped as he shook Mick off, I'm not an invalid."

Mick shifted defensive, tired of having to tip toe around his husband's emotions. "I never said you were."

"Then stop treating me like one," Josef countered, and then paused. "I'm sorry," Josef drew his arms around Mick's waist, and rested his forehead against Mick's shoulder, "I'm being difficult."

"Really?" Mick deadpanned as he returned Josef's embrace, "I hadn't noticed."

"Ha ha, very funny," Josef drew the line of his mouth into as facetious a smile as he could muster, and then fell serious again. "Look, you're worried about me, I get that, but it's difficult enough having to cope with this blasted vulnerability, without you fussing over me every five seconds like I'm made of glass. Now, I am going to get dressed, I'm going downstairs, I'm going to sit in that lovely little artificial atrium we've got, and I'm going to read. If I try and run any marathons, you have my permission to step in, and point out what an idiot I'm being - deal?"

Mick snorted a laugh, and shook his head with world weary patience, as he accepted Josef's proffered handshake, "Deal."

"Walk with me awhile." Mick had asked Pierre to meet him downstairs; they walked the nearby streets together now, Pierre seeming unaffected by yet more reports of what Mick described as Josef's stubbornness; Mick apparently willing to show concern enough for the both of them. "There's no issue with you turning him back, Mick – at least not from that point of view. I have to question whether he's ready to resume the role of Grand Chancellor however."

"I don't think you have any worries there," Mick folded his arms across his chest, and tucked his fingers under his armpits, trying to ward off a sensation of cold only he seemed aware of, "You know Josef, he's unashamedly a Vampire; he wouldn't put the Vampire nation at risk, not intentionally."

"Ah," Pierre smiled, and gestured an index finger, "'not intentionally', that's exactly what I'm concerned about."

"We'd keep an eye on him, I'm still Vice Chancellor as well, you know." Mick wondered why he suddenly felt the need to defend Josef; he was the one who was supposed to be concerned about turning Josef back.

"In that case, I'll leave it up to your judgement." Pierre deferred to Mick's superior rank.

Mick gave a mirthless smile, and then spoke through gritted teeth. "Great."

"Penny for them?" Katherine approached Mick in the lounge room; a restless Miriam slung onto one hip, as Mick stared aimlessly at the television set in front of him, and flicked through channels.

"Sorry, what?"

"Your thoughts, Mick," Katherine chuckled with her lilting Irish tone, and sat down, "I want to know what you're thinking; it's an old saying 'penny for them', penny for your thoughts."

"Yeah I know what it means," Mick replied noncommittally; he was having trouble concentrating on Katherine's word; his mind filled with thoughts of what ifs, and doomsday scenarios he was sure only he could come up with. "You want me to take her for a while?" Mick pointed to Miriam then, hoping to focus on a task his mind could comprehend.

"If you like," Katherine shrugged and handed her squirming granddaughter over to Mick, watching then as Mick bounced the infant on his knee, and blew raspberries in her tiny face. "You're a natural, you know," Katherine ruffled what little there was of her granddaughter's hair, smiling as Miriam laughed and cooed. "You still haven't told me what you were thinking about though, or is it private?"

"Josef's asked me to turn him back tomorrow night."

"Oh," Katherine raised an understanding smile, and took a seat alongside, "I take it this brings an end to the happy little fantasy you had going on. You know, the one where you and Josef play house, and you get to enjoy growing old together – all those little experiences coming to mean so much, because you know your time is short. Josef becoming human, even temporarily, opened up a can of worms for you, didn't it?"

"Yeah," Mick laid Miriam on his lap, and nodded his acquiesce, "I guess it did in a way; it would have been nice if he'd enjoyed the experience a bit more as well."

"Mick," again that same lilting Irish laugh, "you can't expect someone who's lived with the perks of immortality for almost five hundred years, to suddenly accept the limitations of being human with open arms. I'm not even sure I could do it, and I've been a Vampire for a lot less years than either of you."

"Yeah, I know." Mick gave a reluctant smile of admittance as he played Pat-a-Cake to a captivated audience of one.

Just then the phone rang. "I should get that," Katherine mumbled almost apologetically as she went to answer the call - returning a few moments later with news of Roisin. "That was the hospital," Katherine said, as she busied herself locating her jacket, and car keys, "Roisin's been given the all clear to come home."

"I'll go."

All eyes were suddenly on the figure, who'd just stepped into the room.

"I don't think so," Katherine eyed her Sire with a mixture of concern, and apprehension, "I'm not sure you're well enough yet to go traipsing off into the night by yourself."

"My own Childe, usurping my power, and telling me what to do" Josef tongue in cheeked as he gestured towards Katherine, "see what I have to put up with." Josef spoke his reassurances then, "I'm fine, just a tickle in the throat, and the last traces of a cough; I'm sure Mick can line me up with some lozenges. Besides, I'd like some time alone with Roisin, if she's up to it I was thinking I might even take her out to dinner."

"Josef, for God sake…" Katherine began to protest, her words swallowed by the sound of Mick's voice, speaking over top of her.

"No, let him go, a meal out sounds like a pleasant change of scenery compared to staring at four walls in a hospital bed," Mick lock focused his gaze on Josef, trying to radiate support. "And besides, I have a feeling there's a dinner conversation in there somewhere that needs to be had."

* * *

Her back turned, Roisin didn't see her Uncle enter the room. It gave Josef time to absorb the sight of his niece with her bald head, that seemed small and shrunken, and the patchwork of veins visible on her tiny arms like sticks.

Josef cleared his throat.

"Uncle Josef," Roisin turned around in surprise, "I wasn't expecting you. I thought Mum…"

"...When did that happen?" Josef pointed to Roisin's scalp, pre-empting Roisin's stream of conscious rambling; as she tried to hide her embarrassment, and quickly reached for the wig she usually wore; the one Mum had bought for her, the one with the special suction that hurt her head after a while, but kept her hair in place.

"A couple of weeks ago," Roisin hurriedly fixed her wig, and closed the zipper on her overnight bag, "I guess you were too busy hatching plots to notice."

She hadn't meant to sound so harsh, not really. She'd meant it as a joke. Still Josef flinched momentarily at the unintended barb he'd been thrown.

And then he was rolling his eyes, and scoffing under his breath – taking a moment to compose himself, as he brushed aside his bruised ego

_This being human trip was starting to get to him…_

"I figured we could have dinner together, before your Uncle Mick turns me back." Josef refrained from mentioning opportunities lost, and did his level best not to invoke pity; as he watched Roisin sit exhausted on the end of her hospital bed. Roisin had her pride - _her damn, stubborn pride_, by his reckoning. Josef could almost hear Mick's voice prodding at him – _Wonder where she gets it from?_

"Sure," Roisin smiled at her Uncle's offer, and then gestured to her casual attire, "Nowhere too fancy though, I'm not exactly dressed for Rodeo Drive."

"Your choice." Josef slung Roisin's bag over his shoulder, and offered her his arm with a gentleman's bow…

…And for a moment it seemed easy, like family.

"Just tell me why."

Roisin twirled long strands of spaghetti with her fork and spoon, and tried not to sigh too audibly. She'd known they would find their way here eventually.

"I've tried," Roisin jabbed a forkful of Bolognese into her mouth in a silent gesture of frustration. "I don't think I can. Uncle Mick's right, you've been a Vampire for too long, even being human now hasn't given you any insight; it can't. You love…"

"…the nightlife," Josef tongue in cheeked, only to find himself ducking out the way of a good-natured fist. "Hey, easy their featherweight," Josef remembered Roisin's condition then, as he caught her hand mid-flight. "Don't wear yourself out in the first round."

"I can go the distance." Roisin smiled as her Uncle covered her hand with his.

"So it's all or nothing then."

"You know me, Uncle Josef. I never did do things by halves." Roisin gave another smile, a touch of wryness mixed in this time. And then her tone was shifting, imploring – for all the good she thought it would do. "I don't want to be stuck in the middle. I want life, not just the absence of death."

"And the difference is?" Josef arched a questioning eyebrow as he peered over his coffee cup.

Roisin declined to answer, didn't think she could– not adequately at least. Instead she cleared her throat, and waited until she had her Uncle's full attention.

"I figure any decision I make should be fully informed though – I mean seeing you get sick like that, you almost died," Roisin chided her Uncle briefly when Josef scoffed at the notion. "Things are a lot more fragile than we think sometimes, a lot more real too."

"What are you asking?" Josef kept his voice light.

Roisin's hands shook slightly as she concentrated on tearing her paper napkin into red and white shreds of confetti, avoiding her Uncle's gaze for a moment as she collected her thoughts. And then she was looking at Josef point blank, her determination evident. "I want to watch when Uncle Mick turns you back into a Vampire. I know how it's done; I want to see it."

"I think that can be arranged." Josef had pretended to pause for a few moments of consideration leaning back casually in his chair with arms rested behind his head. In reality he'd been running a running a rapid fire checklist of how he was going to broach this with Mick. Mick wasn't going to be happy, he knew that much.

"Right, so it's settled then?" Josef heard Roisin saying, as she drew a cigarette from a crumpled packet she'd pulled from her hand bag, and tapped the end against the table.

"You shouldn't smoke." Josef admonished his niece half-heartedly.

Roisin placed the filter end in her mouth, and flicked a lighter across the tip.

"Why," she asked with more than a tinge of black humour, as she blew smoke rings across the table, "What's it going to do - kill me?"


	14. Chapter 12b

"No. N-o, Josef." Mick slammed the door of the refrigerator, incensed at Josef's request, and then shoved the plate in his hand across the kitchen table. "Here, eat this."

"What is it?" Josef wrinkled his nose in distaste, and prodded at the strange black mass with his fork.

Mick pulled up a seat. "Blood pudding. I thought you might have liked a treat, before I turned you back."

Josef brightened considerably, and then said a sheepish, "Thank you," having heard the hurt in Mick's voice. "You made it yourself?"

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Josef knew it had been a stupid thing to ask. He wanted to make conversation, looking to deflect Mick's annoyance.

"Have you seen me slaughtering any cattle lately?"

"No." Josef sunk further into embarrassment.

"Well there's your answer then. And don't change the subject." Mick fell quiet. Seconds ticked by, extending into minutes, the uncomfortable silence punctuated by the sound of Josef eating, metal fork scraping against porcelain as he shovelled bite sized pieces of congealed blood into his mouth. After what seemed an age, Mick followed on in carefully measured tones. "You do remember that we're Vampires, don't you?"

"Of course." Josef resisted the urge to make a smart remark, under the circumstances he figured it would be akin to throwing gasoline on an open fire.

"And you do get that we live on blood, which we obtain from humans? Which, incidentally, our niece is." Mick focused his gaze on Josef seated across the table from him.

Josef paused in between mouthfuls. He was staring to lose patience with Mick's patronising tone of voice.

"Yes, I get that."

Mick buried his head in his hands a moment, "Then why, Josef, for the love of God why the fuck did you even think it was a good idea to suggest we allow Roisin to watch me turn you back into a Vampire?"

"I just…"

Josef hadn't managed more than two words, before Mick was on his feet, gesticulating angrily. "Did you even think at all? Did you even stop for one moment to consider the risk we'd be placing her under?"

"Mick…"

"…What? You decided it'd be easier if we just did away with her? Help me out here, Josef, because I seem to be having some trouble following your logic. You know what, as a matter of fact," Mick turned heel, and made as if to leave, "why don't I just go and kill her myself right now, save you the effort."

"Sit-down," Josef commanded through gritted teeth, as he stood up, "you're being ridiculous."

"I'm being ridiculous?" Mick replied with rising incredulousness, as he repeated his words, "I'm being ridiculous? Seriously, I'm…I'm going out."

This time Mick turned heel, and stormed from the room, only to run straight into Katherine coming the other way. Mick registered the look on Katherine's face immediately.

"Don't," Mick tried to push past.

"Mick, please." Katherine's first words stopped Mick in his tracks; the second ones were his undoing. "She's my only child."

"Christ." Mick scrubbed a hand over his face, and looked skyward as he tried to think how to respond.

"Mick…"

"…Alright!" Mick lowered his voice; he hadn't meant to speak that harshly. "Just give me…I need some space, to think. Alright?"

Without waiting for an answer Mick pushed past a second time, and headed off into the night.

He returned four hours later, wide eyed and slightly dishevelled.

"Sorry, I just…" Mick approached Josef upstairs, lying on the bed, waiting his return. "I needed some time to think about all this. I had a bit to drink as well," he added almost sheepishly.

"You've had more than just alcohol, Mick." Temporarily human or not, Josef had taken one look at the condition Mick was in, and known immediately; Mick was higher than a kite right now. Josef tried to scent the air around him, realised he couldn't and furrowed his brow. "Male or female?"

"Does it matter? I needed something to clear my head." Mick caught the expression on Josef's face, suddenly he was being transported back in time, back almost 30 years, back to a different night when he'd come home reeking of stale sex, and sweating cocaine. "Oh crap. No, no it wasn't anything like that that. I just…I needed some space, to think, that's all."

Mick was at Josef's side then, his arms drawn tight around Josef's shoulders, offering what reassurances he could. This whole situation was starting to get to them, to both of them. Mick still hadn't been sure of his decision until that moment, now he spoke with certainty.

"Roisin can watch, on one condition -"

"- Name it."

"I want all day tomorrow, and tomorrow night to spend with you – alone. Roisin can watch me turn you back after that."

"I love you." Josef's relief was palpable as he sank deeper into Mick's embrace.

"I know, ditto." Mick kissed the top of Josef's head, brushed his finger along the line of Josef's jaw. And then they were kissing like their immortality depended on it, hands clutching, and bodies seeking heated contact. Forget everything, forget the pain…

_…Forget._

Just for now, just in this moment, that's exactly what they intended to do.

* * *

"You ok?" Josef reached out to trace a tender finger under the line of Mick's jaw as they lay alongside one another on the bed, before turning his attention back to the assortment of handmade Belgian chocolates in front of him.

Mick pretended not to have heard the question, instead he linked his fingers with Josef's own, and then pointed casually to the chocolates. "Are you enjoying those?"

"Yes," Josef forced a patient smile. "Don't change the subject."

"I should be asking you that question," Mick averted his eyes for a moment, seemingly drawn to a spot on the back of Josef's hand.

"Well I'm a little eager to shed this mortal coil, but apart from that," Josef paused when he caught the look on Mick's face. "If I could have enjoyed this more for your sake, I would have," he added almost apologetically.

"I know," Mick forced a quick smile of his own, and gave Josef's hand a reassuring squeeze.

"You're worried, aren't you?"

"Worried? I'm bloody terrified," Mick's carefully held guard finally dropped. "What if something goes wrong?"

"It won't," setting the box of chocolates aside, Josef shifted closer. "You spoke to Pierre, there's nothing getting in the way of you from turning me back. So stop worrying." Josef prodded an affectionate finger into Mick's chest then, and leant forward for a kiss.

Mick allowed himself to relax into the sensation of Josef's lips pressed against his own. He explored Josef's mouth with his tongue, his disappointment evident when he remembered he couldn't taste the residue of chocolate he expected to find there.

"What about Roisin?" Mick broke the kiss and asked.

Josef affected a half-hearted shrug, "What about her, I thought we'd sorted that out. You have precautions in place, don't you?"

Mick saw through Josef's charade. "You're not fooling anyone, you know."

"Who said anything about," Josef cut his defensiveness short, "I thought we were supposed to be enjoying a pleasant last evening with me as a human."

"We are, but you're still worried about Roisin," reaching for the chocolates, Mick popped one into Josef's mouth, "and you haven't even told me what those taste like."

"Like gooey little balls of sugar mud. Oh goody, this one has bits in it." His voice heavy with sarcasm, Josef paused to flick a piece of almond from between his teeth.

"I thought you said you were enjoying those."

"Maybe I'm just enjoying watching you stare at my every move, and salivate."

Mick snorted a laugh, "Maybe."

"Come here," Josef reached for Mick's hand. "You worry too much; you know that, don't you?"

"If I don't, who will," Mick responded half to himself as Josef pulled him closer, their limbs entangling in an embrace.

"I love you," Josef's lips were pressed against Mick's ear then, whispering promises of eternity, "I want forever with you."

"You already have it." Their foreheads rested together, Mick traced a finger down the side of Josef's face.

Josef shook his head, "Not like this."

Mick understood; it was time. "I'll go get Roisin," a lingering kiss, and a moment's hesitation, Mick broke the embrace.

"Now remember what we talked about," Mick led Roisin into the room, and gestured for her to stand by the door. "You don't come any closer than this, if I tell you to run…"

"…I'll break into a fast shuffle." Roisin placed a steadying hand on her Uncle's arm, "It's okay Uncle Mick, I know the drill. Now go bring him back to us."

Roisin watched as Mick turned and took a few steps towards Josef, now kneeling on the carpeted floor.

"Are you ready?" Josef asked as Mick knelt down in front of him.

"Ready as I'll ever be."

"Then let's get this show on the road."

His fingers linked with Josef's own, Mick took one last opportunity to express his misgivings. "If anything goes wrong…"

"I'm sure the angels will weep," Josef retorted, and then drew a hand around the back of Mick's neck, guiding him towards his exposed throat. "Now feed."

In the candle lit dimness of the room, Roisin thought she heard Mick weeping as he sank his fangs into Josef's neck, began to drain the life blood from his veins, his face a pale imitation of his human form. She reached for the light switch, quickly realised in the sudden illumination that the sound wasn't that of grief or fear; it was sheer, unbridled pleasure, the sound of a connection few mortals could ever hope to achieve. Mick whimpering and mewling as he held Josef close, sucking at the blood that flowed from his neck, and Josef responding in kind, eyes closed, mouth hung open, moaning his approval.

Gradually the sounds got quieter. Roisin took a tentative step forward as Mick carefully laid out Josef's lifeless form, and bit deep into the flesh of his own wrist; in the heightened atmosphere of the room she could almost swore she heard the plip, plip, plip of blood as it dripped from the wound into her Uncle's mouth.

And then there was a terrible moment of waiting, Mick pressing his wrist against Josef's lips now, silently counting the seconds as her urged Josef to drink – _come on_.

_Even for a vampire who's just being re-turned the initial blood lust can be pretty overwhelming, he won't be thinking clearly, and he may come after you_. Mick's words echoed in Roisin's head as she saw her Uncle slowly begin to draw strength, his fingers gripped tight around Mick's arm, his lips and tongue lapping at the promise of eternal life.

And then it seemed all hell broke loose. Flashes of movement, her Uncle sitting up, his eyes shining feral as he scented the air around him, a snarl at the ready - - and then Mick simultaneously yelling at her to run, and lunging to hold Josef back.

"Go on; get out of here, run!" Mick shouted again as Josef struggled violently in his arms. Roisin didn't need to be told a third time; behind her as she fled from the room she could hear her Uncle still struggling, still snarling.

"Josef, Josef come on, focus on me," Mick commanded as he grabbed for a nearby bag of blood, and turned Josef towards him. "That's it, just focus on me."

Josef sucked greedily as Mick squeezed the blood into this mouth. He finished one bag, and then another; until plastic bags, some with crimson dregs, littered the floor of the room.

Suddenly Josef was clutching his stomach, muttering something about needing to be sick as he pulled away from Mick's embrace and bolted for the En-suite bathroom.

"You ok?" Mick looked on with concern, his hand rubbing circles over the small of Josef's back as Josef vomited the contents of his stomach into the bathroom sink.

"I'm fine," Josef waited until he'd finished heaving, before wiping the stray traces of blood and bile from his mouth, and standing up. "I probably shouldn't have eaten that chocolate right before you turned me back."

_Before you turned me back _– Mick broke into an unabashed smile as he heard those words. It had worked; Josef was here, with him. His fears had been unfounded.

"You want some more blood?" Mick asked, still grinning from ear to ear.

"No," a salacious smile playing across his features Josef steadied his gaze against Mick's own. "I want you."

Without waiting for a response Josef rushed forward, a mixture of laughter, and a triumphant roar on his lips as he caught Mick up and tore the clothes from his body.

Josef covered Mick's face and throat with kisses as he quickly made light work of his own garments.

"Oh Christ, I have missed you so much"

"Likewise," Mick groaned his approval as Josef's hand shifted to his crotch, his fingers stroking, squeezing, pressing between Mick's legs and exploring further. Their movements quickly reaching a fever pitch they fell to the floor, snarling frantically and clawing at each other's flesh as they tangled themselves up in an embrace. And all the while Mick was begging, panting desperate in Josef's ear. "_Fuck me_."

Downstairs Roisin had pointed a remote towards the TV. There were security cameras all over the house, rerouting the ones in her Uncle's bedroom had been easy enough with her former training. She stood in front of the screen now, staring in mute fascination as she occasionally pressed another button, and changed to a different view.

"Roisin, sweetheart?" Noticing her daughter's presence, Katherine stepped into the room. "How did everything go with your….good Lord!"

"No, Mum, leave it," Roisin batted her mother's hand away as Katherine grabbed for the remote. "I want to see."

"Roisin, I really don't think it's appropriate for you…"

Roisin ignored Katherine's interjection as she tilted her head at the screen. A moment ago her Uncle's had been on the floor, now Mick was flung back against a bedside cabinet, his legs wrapped around Josef's waist.

"This is what Uncle Josef expects me to become? They're like animals." Roisin could hear the chaos coming from upstairs, the furious snarls and howls of pleasure as her Uncle's broke furniture, and threw one another against walls. "I've seen enough," Roisin flicked the TV off then, "I'm tired, I need to lie down."

Wordlessly, Roisin kissed her mother goodnight. Standing forlorn, Katherine stood rooted to the spat as she watched after her daughter's retreating form. The ruckus from upstairs gradually quietened. Mick came down to find Katherine sitting silently in front the of the blank TV screen, a tissue balled tightly in her hand.

"How's…?"

Katherine forced a wan smile and shook her head, before Mick had a chance to finish.

Mick's previous thoughts echoed in his mind_. _"It had worked; Josef was here, with him. His fears had been unfounded."

…_All except for one._


	15. Chapter 13a

**Author's Note - This is the first half of the chapter. I'm still very slowed down with writing at the moment, due to my health, but I wanted to just go ahead and at least post what I did have finished. Thank you to everyone for your patience, and for reading. 3**

* * *

"Roisin, you've been hiding out in your room for the past three days," Mick sat on the edge of his niece's bed, "don't you think it's time you came out, and joined your family for a while?"

"Hello, cancer patient here. I haven't been hiding, Uncle Mick, I've been resting."

"Roisin." Mick put on his best don't bullshit me look, and then his expression softened. "You have to tell him sometime."

"I know," Roisin averted her eyes, lost in thought a moment. "I just don't know what to say, how I'm supposed to make him understand. I keep going over, and over it in my head, and it still doesn't make sense. I can't find the right words."

"Maybe that's because there are no right words," Mick reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from Roisin's forehead. "Just be honest, and be yourself. That's all you really can do."

"Yeah, maybe you're right." Roisin forced a smile then.

"When have you ever known me to be wrong," Mick grinned, and then raised his hands in an admission of defeat. "Okay, don't answer that. Will you at least come down later and join us for dinner, please?" Mick asked then.

Roisin gave a reluctant shrug, "Sure, why not."

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

Mick smiled at Roisin's remark, for all of her weakened condition she could still muster up something of the old spark every now and then. He wondered how long it would be until that spark was gone. The thought saddened him.

"Uncle Mick?" Roisin sensed her Uncle's change of mood. "Was there anything else?"

Mick turned to face his niece, a reassuring smile at the ready, "Nothing for you to worry about."

In another part of the house, Pierre Lamont sat opposite Josef, and bowed his head in deference.

"Welcome back, your Excellency."

"You do realise it's just the two of us in here?" Josef grinned, and arched a facetious eyebrow. "But by all means, feel free to continue standing on ceremony."

"Well I see your time away hasn't done anything to dampen that acid tongue of yours, your Excellency," Pierre parried in return.

"Touché," Josef raised his glass of blood in a mock toast, and then began sorting through the pile of paper work on his desk. "This has all been entered electronically?"

"As you directed, of course."

"Good, then let's get down to business." Josef tapped a finger against the pile of papers, "Give me the abridged version, what exactly is Lance up to, considering his name appears to be plastered all over these reports."

"It's not good news, I'm afraid," Pierre leant forward, his fingers tented in front of him. "We've intercepted several reports that Lance has been stockpiling a rather large cache of weapons, weapons designed to take out us, all of us."

"You mean to tell me there's…"

"…an assassinations plot against the entire Order of Dracul, including yourself, and Mick. Yes."

Josef took a moment to let Pierre's words sink in, his anger barely disguised, simmering beneath the surface. "You have proof of this I take it?"

"It's all there in the reports."

"Mick's aware of this is he?"

Pierre shifted uncomfortably in his seat then. "We thought it best not to tell him, considering the stress he was already under with…well with you being unwell, and Roisin's condition. It wasn't meant to be any sort of reflection on his ability to lead in your absence, I can promise you that."

"It doesn't matter," Josef quickly brushed Pierre aside. "You were just looking out for him; under the circumstances I can appreciate that. Now," Josef returned to a more businesslike manner then, "what exactly are we planning to do about Lance Duvall?"

"We're still amassing evidence, there are several coded transmissions to go through that may help us narrow down an exact date and time for any sort of attack to take place."

"Good," Josef nodded his approval. "I want as much evidence gathered as possible, don't leave anything out, cross the T's and dot the I's. I want everything airtight, before I call a council meeting."

"And do what, might I ask?" Pierre raised a curious eyebrow.

"What do you think?" Josef sat back in his chair, and gave a pointed smile.

"You're talking about having the council voting on whether or not to assassinate Lance Duvall?"

"No, not just Lance," Josef fixed a determined gaze. "All of them."

* * *

"Mum," Roisin lowered her voice, and nudged her mother's foot as she watched her Uncle's overt displays of affection across the dinner table. "Call the hospital; I think I might be developing a sudden onset of diabetes."

"Oh hush," Katherine chortled with amusement, "you knew this would happen. Remember what we talked about, the whole bonding thing that happens when a Vampire is turned?"

"I know, but god they're like newlyweds on steroids," Roisin stared slack jawed for a moment, and then placed another miniscule mouthful of food on her fork. "I mean I've seen them acting all lovey dovey before, but not like this. It's kind of…"

"…Sweet?" Katherine finished helpfully.

"Not exactly the word I was looking for."

"We can still hear you, you know," Josef turned and remarked with his usual aplomb then.

"You mean all that noise of your lips smacking against one another's isn't drowning out our conversation?" Roisin commented with faux innocence.

"Nope," Josef grinned at his niece's expression.

"Roisin?" Katherine noticed her daughter's lack of appetite then, "You're not eating, sweetheart?"

The mood in the room fell serious. Roisin quickly made an effort to push some of the food around on her plate, as if she were deciding which mouthful to try next. "I'm fine, Mum, just not as hungry as I thought I was."

"Well just eat what you can." Katherine hovered over her daughter's plate, her tone of voice getting close to pitying. Roisin mustered a smile, and nodded her agreement, throwing in a few more quick reassurances for good measure. Katherine stopped short of apologising when she sensed her daughter's reaction; instead she sat back in her chair and tried to redirect the conversation.

"Uncle Josef?" Roisin interrupted, before her mother had a chance to speak, "If you're not too busy after tea, I'd like to catch up. We haven't spoken since…"

Roisin trailed off, apparently having developed a sudden interest in a particular segment of peas on her plate.

Josef decided to let the 'since' go. Tongue planted firmly in cheek in he remarked about checking his appointment diary and, "let's do lunch." Josef softened his approach then. "Of course," he said, his tone kept light, "come see me in my office when you're ready."

"Sure," Roisin gave a tight lipped smile, and quickly shovelled a mouthful of peas onto her fork.

"You've been missing in action for a while; I was beginning to think we were going to have to send out a search party for you."

Josef smiled pointedly at his niece seated across from him. In another part of the house three Vampires attempted to contend with the problems of an infant who seemed intent on resisting all efforts to stop the noise that blared from her tiny mouth.

"Try picking her up, and walking her around again," Mick suggested. "What about pat-a-cake, she likes pat-a-cake."

"We've played pat-a-cake, and peek-a-bloody-vamp, and everything else we can think of," Katherine responded in exasperation, her Irish lilt becoming more apparent as her voice raised an octave. "If we play 'this little piggy' with her one more time, her toes are liable to drop off."

"You know back in my day we would have just made a meal and been done with it," Pierre decided to remark unhelpfully then, before finding himself confronted by twin expressions couched in outrage. He raised his hands in contrition, "Just making an observation."

Back in Josef's office, Roisin responded to her Uncle's jibe with a wan smile, and muttered an apology. She stopped short of using the same excuse she had with Mick. Somehow, she figured, 'I needed a rest' just wasn't going to cut it in this situation.

Seconds ticked by until Roisin finally spoke again, her eyes averted. "You went to a lot of trouble for me. Don't think I'm not grateful," Roisin looked at her Uncle direct then, prepared to follow on from that sentence. She didn't get a chance to.

"But you still won't become a Vampire," Josef interjected.

Roisin shook her head, "No."

"It's your life, what's left of it," Josef tried to affect a casual shrug, and swung back in his seat. "Maybe I should have conferred with you a bit more."

"No, Uncle Josef, N-o," Roisin pointed an accusing finger, having worked out where her Uncle was headed with his acts of contrition. "You don't get to play the martyr. I'm the one who's dying; this is my decision to make."

"And so you have. Congratulations, perhaps you'd like me to throw a party." Josef fixed a momentary cold stare on his niece, before breaking off, and waving an apologetic hand. "I'm sorry, that was uncalled for."

"Yeah, it was," Roisin folded her arms, and snorted with derision. And then she was openly pleading with her Uncle, the threat of tears welling at the corners of her eyes. "Please don't make this any harder than it already is. Do you think I like what's happening to me, that it's all been just one big game getting to watch you run around pitting yourself as my saviour, and almost watching you die in the process? And what about Miriam? Do you think I enjoy the fact that I'll never get to see my child grow up, or that she's going to grow up without her mother? Do you honestly think any of this has been easy for me?"

"Then let me help you," Josef moved to the other side of the desk, and crouched in front of Roisin.

"By turning me into a Vampire."

"Why not?" Josef knew he was making a last ditch effort then.

Roisin took one of her Uncle's hands in hers, "Because I'm human. If I could do anything to help you understand that, Uncle Josef, I would."

"I know." Josef gave Roisin's hand a quick squeeze, before letting go, and shifting back to the other side of the desk, a pile of papers suddenly his main focus.

Roisin took the hint. "You must have a lot to catch up on."

"Paperwork doesn't tend do itself, believe me, I've tried," Josef affected a rueful glance at the work in front of him then.

And just like that it seemed their conversation was over.

Roisin paused as she went to leave. "Uncle Josef…?"

"…Can we do this later? Now's really not a good time."

"Yeah, sure," Roisin didn't bother to ask what was so different between now and a few minutes ago, instead she quickly wiped her eyes, and forced an agreeable smile. "I should probably be getting back to Miriam; it sounds like she's trying to break the sound barrier out there."

The sound of a pen tip scrawling furiously across pages, told Roisin not to expect her Uncle to look up. She ran into Mick just outside the door.

"Ouch," Roisin protested as Mick grabbed her arm a little harder than he meant to.

Mick looked sheepish as he apologised, and let go. "Sorry. Hey, how did it go in there?"

"It went okay," Roisin felt a pang of remorse, as she prepared to wipe the hopeful look off her Uncle's face, "If you're definition of okay happens to involve Uncle Josef shutting down, and refusing to talk. It seems a large pile of papers suddenly leapt onto his desk out of nowhere, and demanded his immediate attention."

"He does have a lot to catch up on from when he was away…" Mick trailed off and cleared his throat when he saw the side-eye look Roisin was giving him. "Yeah, alright, even I know that sounds like an excuse. I'll talk to him."

"No, Uncle Mick, leave it. Please," her shoulders sagging, Roisin suddenly looked very weary. "I think I'd just like to go get Miriam, and rest for a while."

"Okay, but I was going in to see him anyway," Mick gestured towards the door he was headed for, "we've got some stuff we need to catch up on."

"Stuff," Roisin mustered a knowing smile as she began to back away. "Stuff sounds good; maybe you should just get in there, and concentrate on stuff."

"Hey," Mick called after his niece's retreating form.

"I know," Roisin waved a dismissive hand over her shoulder as she turned to go. "He loves me, you love me, Mum and Pierre love me - everybody loves me, but somehow that doesn't seem to extend to everybody respecting my wishes."

She was already gone before Mick had a chance to call after her again. He stepped into the room with Josef just in time to catch a glass vase mid-flight.

"So, are we smashing up the furniture now, or just the accessories?" Mick commented with one eyebrow raised.

"Very funny," Josef rolled his eyes, and looked decidedly unimpressed with Mick's remarks. "Nice catch by the way."

Mick watched as Josef did an emotional 180, and sat back down behind his desk, rifling once more through the same pile of papers.

"You sure you're okay?"

"How am I supposed to confirm something I haven't been asked, Mick?" Josef rubbed at a blotch of ink on one of the pages.

"Okay," Mick approached softly. "Are you alright?"

"No, not really," Josef replied matter of fact. "And for fuck sake stop tip-toeing around me."

Mick quickly planted both feet firmly on the ground. Roisin was right, now probably wasn't the best time to talk things over.

"You want some company?"

"With you?" Mick had Josef's undivided attention then.

"No, with Santa."

Mick tried to shoot Josef a withering look from where he stood. Just as fast, Josef didn't miss a beat responding.

"I didn't think we had a chimney for him to fit down."

"Very funny."

"You always say that," Josef almost looked nostalgic as he stood up, and rounded the desk.

_The rest could wait…_

"Do I?" A puzzled look crept over Mick's face, as if he half figured he was actually expected to keep track of such trivialities.

"Yes, you do," Josef was close enough to pull Mick towards him then, his mouth sealed momentarily over Mick's in a passionate kiss. "And yes, I want company."


	16. Chapter 13b

**Author's Note:** Apologies, again, for the slowness of updates to this story, and a sincere thank you to all of my readers who hare still hanging in there. Let me just say expressive dysphasia thank to Psychotic Depression is pretty much the equivalent of writer's block on steroids, particularly when it comes to an ongoing series like this. Fingers crossed I'm hoping some new medication will mean more writing, and quicker updates. 3

* * *

"Uncle Josef, come on, get up."

They'd fallen into the freezer before dawn, feeling half drained and replete from the evening's activities, only to find they were being dragged from their sleep less than an hour later.

"Uncle Josef, please," Roisin hammered insistently on the lid.

"Alright I'm awake, you don't need to punch a hole in the damn thing," Josef pressed the release button on the side of the freezer and sat up bleary eyed.

"Come on, I need you to see something."

Roisin tugged at her Uncle's arm as Josef clambered over the side of the freezer, and threw a robe around his naked form. Mick followed suit.

"What are we supposed to be looking at?" Mick asked as they hurried after Roisin.

"I'll show you when we get there, we don't have much time. I need Uncle Josef to see this."

And then they were standing in Roisin's room, looking out her window at dew covered leaves, and Roisin instructing them, "Just watch."

Josef moved closer and then instinctively recoiled as the sun rose higher in the sky, its rays of light seeming to penetrate through glass. And then those same rays were reflecting off dew drops, creating perfect little prisms of multi-coloured lights, all dancing across a backdrop of green foliage.

"Wow," Josef and Mick exclaimed in unison as they stared at the phenomenon in front of them. And then it was gone, almost as quickly as it had appeared. Josef turned to Roisin, "I take it this is more than you just dragging us out of the freezer to look at pretty lights?"

Shifting into her Uncle's space Roisin rested both hands in his, and caught his gaze with her own. "It's life, Uncle Josef. Don't you see? This is what it means to be human. It's fleeting, and it doesn't last, but in the time that it does it can be indescribably precious, and beautiful, just like those prisms of light."

Josef regarded his niece's expression, the imploration that lay there, and then averted his eyes for a moment, before turning back to her.

"I think it's time we talked."

* * *

"Do you think Uncle Mick's managed to wear a hole in the floor yet?"

Josef snorted a brief laugh at Roisin's off the cuff remark, as they sat opposite one another, across the kitchen table, and listened to the sound of Mick pacing just outside the door.

"I commanded an army once," Josef's expression fell dark then, one finger rubbed distractedly back and forth over an imaginary blemish on the table's surface. "One thing you learn after almost five centuries, the majority of problems can be fixed by money, or bloodshed."

"Except this."

Josef regarded his niece's stillness, the matter of fact expression on her face obscured only slightly by the occasional flicker of pain he saw dart across her eyes. He took a moment, and steadied himself.

"Just tell me what you need from us."

"You do realise you've gone more than five minutes without making a smart arse remark," Roisin cocked an eyebrow at her Uncle, and deflected the question. She needed time to prepare a response.

"I thought I'd save it for later, maybe try a bit of impromptu stand up," the grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, belied Josef's deadpan response.

"Very funny."

"Well I do try," Josef parried, before steering the conversation back to matters at hand. "You haven't answered my question."

"I need to know Miriam will be taken care of, after I'm gone," Roisin clenched and unclenched her fists, trying to dispel her sense of nervousness. This was the first time she'd broached the issue with her Uncle.

"I know, Mick spoke to me about it a while back. I guess I wasn't in the mood to listen then," Josef paused, his fingers drumming against the table top, marking time with his thoughts. "Why us?"

"Because you can protect her," Roisin shrugged as if that statement were self-evident.

"So can your mother and Pierre." Josef pressed further. "There has to be another reason, Roisin. I don't buy you wanting to present me and Mick with a ready-made family just because you think we'll do a better job of protecting Miriam."

"Why," Roisin's voice rose, she was tired of having these never ending conversations with her Uncle. "Why do you need a reason? You asked me what you could do, and I'm telling you."

"I didn't…"

Roisin interrupted Josef's planned protest. "I'm tired, Uncle Josef, I'm tired of having to justify every decision I make. I just want to enjoy whatever time I have left, and I need to know that Miriam will be looked after when I'm gone. I think you and Uncle Mick can give her a good life, a life where her decisions will be respected."

"Yes, because I've done so well at respecting your decisions so far," Josef snorted a laugh, and shot Roisin a crooked smile.

"I didn't mean it like that, Uncle Josef," Roisin chided. "You know what Mum's like though, she'd probably keep Miriam human just to honour my memory."

"I think you underestimate her. You know she'd probably tear my head off with her bare hands if I tried to turn you against your will. I think that's proof enough that she'd respect Miriam's wishes as well." Josef leant back in his chair, his arms rested casually above his head; the conversation between them flowed freer now.

"Maybe, it doesn't matter though; I'm asking you and Uncle Mick to take care of her. Will you do it Uncle Josef?" Roisin stopped just short of openly begging. She studied her Uncle's expression, momentarily hooked on every flicker that passed across his features. "Say yes, please."

Josef held up a placating hand, "I'll talk to Mick again, he gets a say in this too."

"Of course," Roisin nodded her agreement, and leant forward, "I want Miriam baptised as well. I know I haven't exactly kept the faith, but it feels important, to the family, you know."

"You'd want me to perform the ceremony?" A note of uncertainty crept into Josef's voice.

"The Vatican gave you permission to perform Mass, I don't think they'd have too much trouble with you baptising one of your own relatives." Roisin seemed unconcerned.

"They gave me permission to offer and receive the Eucharist," Josef corrected, indulging in a plethora of eye rolling groans as he recalled the hours of negotiation it had taken, "and there were conditions. You're talking about a child's eternal soul, according to tradition Miriam should have been baptised already. Funnily enough the Church tends to take this sort of thing pretty seriously," Josef finished with his usual aplomb.

"I know," Roisin was undeterred, "but you could talk to them, they listened to you once, and the Church has provisions for emergency Baptism, don't they?"

"You know things have changed since the seventeenth century, not to mention there was a third Vatican council, and…" Josef stopped mid-sentence, arguing seemed pointless. "I'll make some calls," he agreed finally. "What else?"

"You know I'm not scared of death, maybe I was at first, but I've gotten used to the idea, not that I really had much choice," Roisin was choosing her words carefully now. "Just…whatever happens, when it happens, I don't want it to be drawn out. Promise me, when the time comes, you and Uncle Mick will be able to let me go."

"A mercy feeding. Should be an interesting change of pace," Josef's finely honed cynicism covered an emotional response.

"Like you've never heard someone beg for mercy before," Roisin shot back with a laugh, she knew her Uncle well enough by now.

"Touché." Their conversation shifted to small talk, winding down as they each began to process the morning's events in their own time. "I should probably see how Mick's doing," Josef said eventually.

"Before or after he's paced his way through the floorboards?" Roisin joked.

"Preferably before. I am sorry you know," Josef called after his niece as she turned to go.

Roisin stopped just inside the doorway, and turned back, "I know."

Josef pricked up his ears to the sound of Roisin's brief exchange with Mick, out in the hallway then. Nothing of interest, nothing he hadn't just heard.

And then Mick was standing where Roisin had been, leaning against the frame of the doorway. "Is it safe to come in, or should I get ready to duck?"

"Very funny," Josef rolled his eyes at Mick's apparent sense of humour.

"Hey, just making sure I'm not going to be in the firing line of any low flying objects," Mick took a hesitant step forward.

"Yes, because I'm sure this bowl of dried fruit sitting next to me just has deadly weapon written all over it."

Mick was at Josef's side then, his arms draped over Josef's shoulders, offering whatever comfort was needed. "So, how did it go?" Mick rested his chin atop Josef's head.

Hearing the tension in Mick's voice Josef stopped just short of making a wisecrack about Mick listening in to their conversation, in-between pacing a hole in the floor.

"We chatted about our niece's upcoming death," Josef commented drily, "it went well."

"All things considered hey," Mick placed a kiss on Josef's temple.

"Something like that." Josef was done with talking then, taking hold of one of Mick's hands he directed it inside his robe. "Care to make yourself useful and take my mind of things?"

"I thought I already did?" Mick teased as his hand quested lower.

"That was last night," Josef snaked an arm behind Mick's head, drawing him down for a kiss. "We should head back to bed, unless you want me to do you on the kitchen table?"

"Tempting, but no," Mick shook his head and bought a temporary halt to proceedings.

"What? Afraid we'll get busted," Josef grinned as they made their way back along the hallway.

"I think we've traumatised our niece enough for one lifetime, don't you?" Mick returned Josef's look with the added raise of an eyebrow.

_Enough for one lifetime, one very short lifetime, one very short lifeline that could be fixed if only_…

Josef paused, and shook himself out of his reverie, focusing on Mick now sprawled out on the bed in front of him, one arm tucked behind his head, looking every inch as tempting as his sudden need for intimacy had imagined.

"You sure everything's okay?" Mick half sat up then, concerned etched on his features.

"Yeah, fine." Clearing his throat to cover his embarrassment, Josef realised he'd done little more than stand and stare. Admiring the view was one thing. "Nothing that a few rounds of let's see if I can screw my husband through the mattress wouldn't fix."

Husband, that word was still enough of a rarity on Josef's lips that it made Mick smile every time.

"It's so nice to know the romance hasn't gone out of our relationship," Mick remarked tongue in cheek as Josef shifted on top of him

This was more like it, just the two of them, the easy back and forth, clothes being shed; Mick's legs wrapped around his hips now. "Play your cards right and I might even drag home a rosebush or two," Josef replied without missing a beat.

Discussions of death could wait, for now the benefits of immortality were calling.


	17. Chapter 14

**This is the full chapter, if you've already read the portion of it that I posted before, feel free to scroll down to where it says 'Part 2'. Apologies again for the length of time between updates. **

* * *

Josef sat surrounded by volumes of canon law, pouring over the writings of some of the Catholic Church's foremost thinkers. Every now and then he paused to scribble more notes.

"I thought you were just going to make a few phone calls?"

"What?" Josef looked up, startled. He'd been so engrossed in his work, he hadn't heard Mick approach.

"You're taking this pretty seriously," Mick picked up one of the books from the table, and flicked through its contents.

"Maybe I like the challenge," Josef took the book back, and then stood up. He made his way over to the window, his forehead pressed wearily against the pane of glass as he watched the city below go by.

"Or maybe it gives you something else to think about for a while," Mick walked over to join him, his arms wrapped around Josef's waist, his chin rested atop Josef's shoulder.

"I just hate being this helpless," Josef clenched his fists, gritted his teeth at his own reflection in the window. "I'm almost five hundred, I've…"

"Commanded armies, I know," Mick paused to place a kiss on Josef's temple. He didn't know what else to say, just let Josef talk.

Josef leant back into Mick's arms; let the weight of his body sag just a little. "Was any of it worth it?" He asked, more to himself.

"Depends on what any of it is, I guess," Mick drew his arms a fraction tighter.

"Going to war, fighting the Legion, all of it, any of it," Josef shook off Mick's embrace and strode back towards the desk, pen and notebook at the ready as soon as he sat down. "I need to work on this."

In a flash Mick was in front of Josef, quickly straddling his lap, one hand already working at the front of Josef's trousers. He pinned Josef's arms to his side, when Josef tried to move him away. "You need to take a break," Mick enunciated each word, his forehead pressed against Josef's own, before he released his hold and leant back, hands raised in placation. "Not that I'm trying to pressure you, or anything," Mick smiled his best, innocent smile then.

"Sure you're not," Josef's words were swallowed by his lips suddenly pressed against Mick's own. He pulled back just as quick. "All that time fighting to protect the people I care about the most. Now it turns out one of them is still going to die, and there's not a damn thing anyone can do to change that. So tell me," Josef leant in close once more, his lips brushing against the edge of Mick's ear, "was it worth it?"

"It was worth it," Mick responded with all the quiet patience he could muster, searching Josef's expression for some sign that his words had at least given some measure of reassurance.

"So are we going to sit here yapping all night, or were we planning to fuck anytime soon?" Josef responded.

Mick quirked a smile, trust Josef to turn semi reluctance into an idea that had been his all along. Not that Mick was complaining as they separated briefly, shedding items of clothing and discarding them where ever they fell, before coming together again in a heated embrace.

"No," Josef hesitated and shook his head when Mick lay back across the desk, reaching up to pull Josef down with him. "I'm not in the mood to top, not tonight. I think I'd rather hand the reigns over to you."

"Giddy up then I take it?"

Josef drew the line of his mouth into a disarming smile, and raised one eyebrow in caricature.

"Yes, something like that."

_-scene break-_

Mick wasn't exactly sure when they'd made it from the desk onto the floor. He wondered for a moment if the desk was still in one piece as Josef clung to his back, amidst the carnage of books and papers that lay scattered in their wake, and managed to rasp out a single word.

"Don't…"

_Don't, don't what? _Mick stopped mid stroke and quickly ran through a mental litany of things he wasn't supposed to be doing.

"Don't stop, you idiot. What did you think I meant? Don't, not there, it tickles," Josef acid tongue witted as he rolled his eyes.

Mick spluttered as tried to restrain his amusement at Josef's remark, not wanting to ruin the mood by bursting into fits of laughter. Sometimes it felt as if it had been so long since he'd heard Josef's cutting wit in recent times he'd almost begun to miss it.

Giving in to Josef's demands then Mick stepped up the pace, throwing a hand onto Josef's cock as he did so, revelling in the hisses and snarls of approval it afforded him. And then they were falling over the edge, collapsing together sated with their fans sunk deep into each other's flesh.

"You were right. I should definitely take breaks more often," Josef grinned like a Cheshire cat as they disentangled and then moved into a comfortingly familiar embrace.

"I worry about you," Mick stroked an absentminded hand across the top of Josef's head, and then turned to place a kiss on his temple.

"You think I'm going to start re-enacting scenes of a raving lunatic again? Been there, done that, didn't like it the first couple of times around, not exactly planning on going back for thirds." Josef's voice softened then. "Mick, come on, I love you. I wouldn't put you through all that, not again."

"Yeah, I know," Mick nodded his understanding; a touch of uncertainty still crept into his voice. "Just promise me you'll take care of yourself."

"Hey, hello, vampire again, you know with the whole impervious to disease, rapid healing, immortality thing going on." Josef couldn't resist poking at least a tiny bit of fun, even as he gave his assurances. "I'm going to be fine, Mick, really. There are just some things I need to work on, things that are important to Roisin, and to the Order. I have duties to perform, you know that. And you worry too much."

"So I've been told," Mick snorted a brief laugh, and offered Josef a crooked smile in return. "You want me to give you a hand tidying up, looks like we made a bit of a mess." Without waiting for a response, Mick got to his knees and began gathering piles of notebooks and paper.

"At the least the room's still in one piece," Josef deadpanned, "relatively speaking."

"Where do you want this stuff?" Mick gestured towards the assortment of items in his hands.

"Just put it back over there, on the desk, I'll sort it out later," his back turned, Josef flicked through one of the fallen volumes, and then set it to one side. "So what do you think of Roisin wanting to present us with this whole ready-made family deal, no miracles of science necessary, just add baby," Josef dropped a casual bombshell with a flippant wave of a hand then.

"We have spoken about this before, briefly. You didn't seem very receptive to the idea," Mick wondered where this particular conversation was headed.

"Yeah, well things change, Mick…to a degree," Josef perched himself on his desk, still surveying the rest of the scattered books and papers that would need to be picked up and sorted. At least the mess they'd made had been worth it.

Noting the grin tugging at the corners of Josef's mouth, Mick cleared his throat and steered the conversation back on topic. "Okay, getting back to matters at hand, what do you mean exactly 'to a degree'? You know it's not like we haven't had a hand in raising a kid before. You did alright looking after Roisin when Katherine was first turned."

"Things are different now, with the position I'm in there's more to raising a baby than just making sure it's clothed, and fed, and resisting the urge to snack," Josef was pacing then, emphasising his words with a series of clipped hand gestures. "Mick, I'm the Grand Chancellor of the entire Vampire Nation, I need to be able to strike fear into our enemies if the situation calls for it. Now how do you propose I do that whilst bouncing a gurgling baby on my knee?"

"Don't take Miriam with you in the first place, hire a baby sitter?" Mick replied with overtones of exaggerated helpfulness, before shifting serious once more. "There's more to it than that though, isn't there?"

Josef hesitated for a moment, "It just feels so…"

"…Final?" Mick offered gently.

"Yeah, exactly," Josef nodded a quiet agreement, before returning to his previous rhythm of pacing and gesturing back and forth. "It's like her dying wish, how am I supposed to deny someone something like that…well actually I have, but you know, past deeds and all that."

"Well thank you for that lovely mental image, Josef," Mick parried then with mock gentlemanly politeness.

"You're welcome," Josef shot back with his usual trademark aplomb.

"We're getting off topic again."

"I know," the first dappled rays of sunlight were rising slowly over the city's horizon as Josef moved back towards the window. They would need to sleep soon. "Look, if you're okay with it, then so am I. It doesn't really seem like we have much of a choice as it is. Unless Roisin decides to grant herself a last minute reprieve…" Josef let the rest of that thought hang in the air, before turning to Mick, his affect and manner all business now as he squared off his shoulders, and drew himself up to his full height. "Besides, we have other matters to attend to."

"You mean Lance?"

"Precisely," Josef was in control again now. "We're calling a meeting, sooner rather than later."

* * *

*** (Part 2)**

"Your Excellency." Formal as ever the assembled rank and file of The Order stood, and bowed in unison as Josef entered the room with Mick following close behind.

Josef greeted each member in turn, before gesturing for them to be seated. "Let's get started shall we, we have a lot of ground to cover," Josef cleared his throat, before turning the floor over to Mick.

"Pierre would have bought you up to speed on most things," Mick began, as he handed out a series of maps, and folders of information, "this is what we know as of this moment." With that Mick switched on one of the room's state of the art monitors, and began flicking rapidly through reams of gathered Intel. "You'll note on the maps you've been given that the Duvall family, and their associates have stockpiles of weapons," Mick pointed at various points on the screen, "here, here, and here. Our operatives have confirmed that this stockpile is large enough to wipe out not just The Order, but the entire Vampire Nation, and they are prepared to use it."

"Kill your own kind, without provocation," one of the lower ranked members spoke up, "but why?"

"We believe Lance Duvall is launching a play for power," Josef took over from Mick briefly. "He plans to wipe out The Order of Dracul, along with any of our agents, and then use the remainder of the weapons he has stockpiled to hold as a threat over the rest of the Vampire Nation. Under the circumstances he expects the Nation to yield and for him to assume supreme command. The man has balls, I'll give him that much. Of course they're egotistical, megalomaniac, soon to be torn from his broken and bleeding body type balls…"

"…He'd be creating a dictatorship." Another vampire interrupted as a series of disapproving murmurs were heard around the table.

"Yeah, exactly," arms folded across his chest, Mick's sharpened tone let those assembled know exactly what he thought of the situation. "We have a plan in place though…"

"Young man," one of the stauncher traditionalists of the group began with an air of patronisation as he addressed Mick, only to find himself on the receiving end of a disapproving growl from Josef. Suitably chastised, he nodded a quick apology, before continuing on. "Begging your pardon, your Excellency, Sir…"

"…Just call me, Mick," Mick interrupted briefly. "Not your Excellency, not your Excellency, sir – just, Mick."

"Duly noted, Mick," the elder vampire inclined his head graciously then, shooting a quick side glance at Josef as he did so, ensuring he received approval. "But this plan, you don't just expect the Duvall's to roll out the welcome mat, do you?"

"Oh, you mean they're not just going to sit there looking pretty, while we waltz in and slaughter them?" Mick looked over to Josef, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Actually that's exactly what we expect them to do."

"Gentleman, if you'll indulge us for a moment," Josef stood up and addressed the myriad of confused faces, and furrowed brows then. "Look behind you."

"Impossible…" "It's a trick…" "Must have been there before we came in…" A shocked hue and cry went up around the table as each member turned, only to find they were staring at the business end of a sword.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Josef laid it on thick as he pretended to look just as shocked, and proceeded to apologise with tongue firmly planted in cheek, "did you all just happen to forget we have trained Legion assassins in our midst these days."

"No Legion assassin was ever that good." One of the oldest vampires present remained clutching his chest.

"No Legion assassin was ever a vampire."

Before Josef could continue there was a knock at the door. Mick moved to answer it. One of the servants hovered nervously in the corridor outside.

"I'm sorry for the intrusion, Mick" he had hesitated briefly, the word sir having begun to form on his lips, "it's the hospital, Miss Roisin is there for her latest check-up. It seems they'd, she'd like a word with his Excellency the Chancellor, and yourself as soon as possible." The servant cringed slightly then, realising the enormity of having interrupted what he assumed was a very important summit meeting for the Order.

Mick smiled his reassurances, and slipped a hundred dollar note into the servant's hand, "Consider it a tip," he said, as the servant accepted it with the good graces he had been taught during his training. "And Freddie?"

"Yes Sir, I'm sorry I mean, Mick," Freddie replied with subservient politeness.

"Thanks for letting us know, contact the hospital and tell them we're on our way."

* * *

Isopropanol, Josef was beginning to loathe the scent of Isopropanol. Why did every damn hospital they'd ever been in have to smell like Isopropanol. He made a quick mental note to behead the next servant of theirs who dared use it, before realising that randomly killing off the help wouldn't exactly meet with Mick's approval.

"Uncle Josef, you're not listening to me," Roisin's voice snapped him out of his private reverie; "You heard what the Doctor just said.

"Bits and pieces." Josef shrugged and averted his eyes a moment, as if this were an argument not worth having. He remembered snatches of what the Doctors had told them, something about cells multiplying faster than what the current nanotechnology could handle, despite their best efforts the cancer had begun to infiltrate other organs_, _they were afraid the latest rounds of treatments weren't working as they'd hoped.

There were still experimental treatments being developed.

_We can buy you another three years…_

A few feet away Mick sat still and silent in one of those god awfully designed, garish hospital chairs, his expression a mask of forced stoicism as he listened to the one sided conversation being had.

"Three years? Of this?" Roisin's voice was beginning to crack under the strain.

_There were still experimental treatments being developed…_

…_We can buy you another three years._

"It's better than nothing, Roisin," Josef countered. "At least it gives you some sort of…"

"What? Hope?" Roisin gave a snort of derision, and then removed her custom made wig, revealing the bald scalp beneath. "Look at me, Uncle Josef. I'm tired; I'm in pain every day, all of the treatments so far have made me feel sicker than I ever thought possible. I feel like I'm hell and you're asking me to spend another three years there? No more, I'm done, finished. I can't do this anymore, Uncle Josef, I just can't."

"So that's it, you just give up," there was a bitter edge to Josef's voice, "the girl I knew who was strong enough to give up her life playing double agent for the Order of Dracul, the one who was strong enough to help us take down the entire Legion."

Roisin threw her hands up in despair then. "Uncle Josef this isn't some army you can just waltz in and conquer. This is cancer," she took a moment to compose herself, "and it's going to kill me. If you really want to help me then arrange the best palliative care you can find, because I am done with treatment, and that's my decision to make."

Mick was by her side then, an arm slipped gently around her frail shoulders.

"Come on, let's just get you home."

_-scene break-_

"What the hell was that back there, Josef?" Mick had waited until Roisin was asleep, before deciding to confront his husband on his behaviour at the hospital. "Our niece has just made one of the hardest decisions of her life, and you treat her like she's some petulant child you can make see reason?"

"Seemed like the decision was pretty easy from where I was sitting, Mick," Josef shot back caustically.

"Then you weren't looking hard enough."

"You know she wants to go home to die," Josef changed the subject then, his voice sounding matter of fact and distant as he settled down on the bed.

"Home to Paris?" Mick joined Josef alongside, his previous anger beginning to wane as he raised a questioning eyebrow.

Josef shook his head, "No, Ireland."

Mick shifted closer, his head rested near Josef's shoulder, one leg draped over Josef's thigh. "You're okay with that?" He asked. "We're talking a lot of memories."

"Put it this way, I'm a lot more okay with taking a nostalgic trip down torture lane, and trying to avoid the inevitable 'haven't I seen you in a painting somewhere before', than I am in knowing Roisin wants to return to her birth place to die."

"You're not going to change her mind on this; you know that, don't you?" Mick propped himself up on one shoulder, and studied the expression on Josef's face.

"I know," Josef nodded, and then quirked an off centred smile. "You should know me by now though, Mick. I'm kind of used to getting my own way."

"Even if that means extending the suffering of someone you love?" Mick regretted those words almost as soon as they had left his mouth. He made a vain attempt at back tracking. "I didn't mean…"

"You really think I want to see Roisin suffer?" Josef interjected, before Mick could even get past the first three words.

"No, of course not," Mick shook his head emphatically, "Just forget I said it, okay?"

"Oh sure, yeah, no problem, Mick, let's just forget all about the world according to you, where I'm apparently forcing our niece to suffer. Easy done." Josef snorted his derision, and waved a mockingly dismissive hand.

"Okay, so what else would you call doing a song and dance routine about Roisin accepting some form of experimental treatment, just so she can squeeze out another three years of misery."

Josef fell into an obstinate silence then. He knew Mick was right, not that he could admit that out loud – admittance felt far too much like acceptance, like giving in without a fight. Would he be able to look back on this is ten, twenty, even a hundred years' time and say he had done all he could.

A few moments later he was sitting up, feet swung over the edge of the bed, ready to stand.

"Where are you going?" Mick asked trying his best to keep a light tone as guilt still gnawed at the edges of his subconscious.

Josef started pulling on his socks and shoes. "The plane's not going to fly itself to Ireland, now is it."

"The plane will still be there in the morning," Mick reached for him, urging him back to bed.

This time at least Josef didn't argue.


	18. Chapter 15

Their LA apartment was a flurry of activity and disarray. Boxes piled floor to ceiling, expensive medical equipment still to be disconnected and packed strictly according to the manufacturer's instruction. Josef was taking no chances as he orchestrated chaos, and listened to the growing murmurs that had begun to surround him.

"…And of course we have to play follow the leader, like the good little sheep that we are," one of the order's stalwarts could be heard complaining bitterly.

"Will you excuse me a moment," Josef smiled with cold politeness at one of the extra hired hands, and made his way over to the weapons cache. Less than ten seconds later he was casually wiping blood from the blade of one of his favourite swords, the headless body of the stalwart vampire lying at his feet. "Anyone else have any complaints they'd like to start bleating on about?" Josef looked around the room, saw eyes lowered, high ranking Order of Dracul members scurrying into corners, out of his line of sight. He placed the sword back with the rest of the collection in its prepared shipping case. "Nope, didn't think so."

Pierre approached then, a broad smile at the ready, ever the polite and humble servant outside of private quarters.

"Your Excellency, a moment of your time, if it's not too much trouble," Pierre placed a deferential hand on Josef's shoulder and gave a light squeeze, letting him know the matter was important. He dropped the façade as soon as they were away from prying eyes. "So what was that back there, did you just decide this was come to work and get randomly beheaded by the boss day?"

"You think I should be acting more like someone befitting the role of Grand Chancellor, someone like Auguste Vasilescu perhaps? Now how would Auguste have handled that situation?" Josef pretended to tap a thoughtful finger against his lips, "Oh, wait, I've got it."

Pierre cleared his throat, "No, not more like Auguste, more like a leader, and a little less like a dictator."

"So a little less action, a little more conversation."

"Something like that," again that same polite deference, this time served with a tongue that was planted firmly in cheek, "unless of course you were planning to behead everyone who speaks out of turn, or decides to grumble in his lordship's presence."

"You're saying I should put up with insubordination, considering the risk that we currently face? Josef mounted a counter challenge then. "I should allow dissent in the ranks when what we need most right now is to at least try to act like we're a cohesive unit?"

"No, I'm saying the damn near impossible has been achieved. Lance's misguided hordes notwithstanding, you are in charge of a Vampire nation that has come to not only respect a mortal, but to love her as if she were one of our own…

"Yes, because we as a nation have always gotten along so well," Josef sank into the nearest couch, and waved an apologetic hand. "I know they all love Roisin, I actually had a run in with Mr now missing his head last week over turning her. Apparently I'm supposed to force the issue, literally."

"Trust me, that's one vamp who won't be missed. The others though…" Pierre paused to help himself to the liquor cabinet, two generous shots of Scotch poured into separate tumblers, "try to go a little easy on them; they're willing to follow you to the ends of the earth for Roisin's sake."

Josef accepted the drink being proffered, "Advice taken."

_scene break_

At a park an hour's drive away Mick hoisted Miriam onto a plastic slide, and supported her back as she slid down it, getting stuck half way. Miriam didn't seem to notice, choosing instead to gurgle with laughter and kick her little feet with glee. Roisin sat on a bench a few feet away, watching the scene in front of her unfolding.

"You're a natural, Uncle Mick," Roisin laughed as Mick scooped Miriam up and deposited her into the sandpit, looking on as her daughter proceeded to crawl and crumple her way all over her Uncle's attempt to build a castle.

It had been less than a week since she'd stopped treatment, already she felt better than she had done in months. Roisin got to her feet then, and walked over to join her Uncle and daughter now engaged in a vigorous game of horsey.

"You ready to go soon?" Mick asked as Roisin knelt in the sand next to them.

Roisin smiled and tickled her daughter's chin, "What about this little one, think she's ready to call it a day?" It dawned on Roisin then: day, daytime – the sun. "Shit, sorry Uncle Mick, I wasn't thinking. You want me to call the car around for us?"

"That'd probably be a good idea," Mick looked at Miriam curled up in his lap, her fascination drawn to a beetle that was making its way across her leg. "She'll have to get used to living in the shadows you know."

"I'm sure you and Uncle Josef will bring her out into the light when you can," Roisin offered her reassurances, as she dialled the car service's number, and waited for someone to pick up. "Besides, living in the shadows isn't all bad, is it, Uncle Mick?"

"Why, you thinking of joining us?"

Mick had quirked an off centred smile at Roisin, intent on teasing. Still she had responded with an emphatic, "No".

Roisin hurriedly tried to change the tone of the conversation then, "I just meant you and Uncle Josef met in the shadows, didn't you? I mean if the two of you weren't vampires you would never have gotten to know one another. Besides good things come in shadows - romantic candle lit dinners, flattering lighting, sex on the beach at moon light…"

"Yeah okay, I got it, shadows good." Mick laughed, a little embarrassed as he held up a hand to bring a halt to the conversation.

And then the three of them were climbing into the back of a black limousine, the sun blocked out by its heavily tinted windows. Mick reached into the limousine's bar fridge and drew out a fresh bottle of blood, turning his back away from Roisin and Miriam as he hurriedly sucked down its contents.  
There were still things in the shadows that he didn't want Miriam to see, not yet at least…

_Not until her mother…_

Mick halted mid thought then. Not until her mother decided it was time she knew, he had been about to think. Her mother wouldn't be there though.

Screwing the cap back on the now empty bottle he threw it into one of the limousine's small recycle bins, and then turned back to Roisin and Miriam.

"Better?" Roisin asked. Her brow furrowed with concern as she noted the pained look on her Uncle's face.

"Yeah, it does the trick."

Mick forced a smile and then turned to watch the world pass by his passenger side window, swallowing back the threat of tears as they rose to spill over.

* * *

"You okay?"

They were flying 30,000 feet over the North Atlantic Ocean, Josef's head rested in the crook of Mick's shoulder on their custom installed bed. Even by Mick's standards he had been quieter than usual, lost in melancholic thought.

"Yeah, I'm fine, we should hit the freezer soon," Mick kissed the top of Josef's head and went to sit up, intent on getting some proper rest.

"You sure you don't want to stay," Josef's hand reached into Mick's lap, his fingers curling around the base of Mick's cock, "I could do with some more cheering up."

"You're not the only one in pain you know," Mick rebuked Josef's advances, his words delivered with an edge sharper than he'd intended. He shifted off the bed, and threw a robe around his naked form as he stammered out an apology. "God-fucking-damnit," he suddenly snapped as he fiddled with the robe's tangled cord, "is there any chance something might go right around here for once."

"What about us, I thought we were going pretty right, the calm at the centre of the storm, you and me, against the world, believe me if all those endearing clichés and all that."

Josef's attempt at cynicism was belied by the timbre of his voice, the hurt Mick could see flickering behind his eyes. Mick sat on the edge of the bed, his head buried in his hands a moment, before he spoke again.

"I'm sorry, I didn't…just at the park with Roisin and Miriam the other day, I guess it finally hit me. I've been so busy worrying about you my own Niece in law has been dying in front of me, little by little, and I didn't notice it until the other day."

"Yeah, I know how that goes." Josef reached for Mick again, drawing him back down into an embrace. This time Mick offered no resistance. "So, my beloved, what are you planning to do about it? I don't suggest overly dramatic gestures of moping, that's kind of my thing." Josef was pleased when his attempt at self-deprecating humour was met with a genuine snort of laughter from Mick.

"I suppose I could be persuaded to go another round," Mick traced a nonchalant finger along the lines of Josef's chest, feigning reluctance.

Already Josef was sliding down the length of Mick's form, his mouth teasing the head of Mick's cock "So just how hard am I gonna have to try to convince you?"

Mick arched up when Josef flicked his tongue across his frenulum, before taking his cock deep into the back of his throat.

"Probably not that - _Oh, Jesus, fuck_ - hard at all."

_scene break_

They landed at Galway Airport just before day break. Two hours to unload their luggage, a load of freezer units, enough to service the entire order of Dracul included, and they were making their way to the village of Ballinfad with the sun already well in the sky.

"Bring back any memories?" Josef asked, slightly tongue in cheek as they stood in front of Flannery's Hotel and listened to a gathering of Elder vampires complain bitterly about everything from the pre-packaged blood, to the flight itself, and now their expect accommodations.

"Plenty," Mick began shifting suitcases and boxes, ready to be installed inside their respective rooms. He and Josef would have one wing of the hotel to themselves; they figured Roisin needed the space, the rest of the Order; fifty top members in total would take the rest. "Hey watch it with that stuff," Mick shouted at one of the hired delivery men as he stumbled and almost dropped a particularly expensive piece of medical equipment. "I'd better go make sure they don't trash our luggage," He turned to Josef then, hands palm up in a gesture of apology. He would have liked to have settled in with the two of them together.

"Don't worry about it, I need some time to change anyway, I promised Roisin…"

"Yeah, I know," Mick nodded his understanding, and stopped for a moment to entwine his fingers with Josef's own. "How are you feeling about seeing the place again?"

"St Mary's Priory?" Hand in hand they began to move towards the hotel entrance, Mick would help with the moving in later. "Home sweet home I guess, or at least it used to be. It's more needing time to go back into Priest mode, that and facing the new guy who's running the place now – young Priest, name of Father Michael, a little less progressive than Father Patrick from what I've heard. I doubt he'll be happy to see me, probably thinks I've come to piss on his territory, or something."

"He knows then?"

"That I'm a four plus centuries something vampire who used to be the Priest at St Mary's when it was known as St Mary's on the Hill? He knows, the Vatican filled him in. Apparently the Vatican doesn't know what to do with me."

"They're not a threat, are they?" Mick felt himself tense, coiled tight against unseen danger.

"No," Josef gave a reassuring laugh, "I just mean my status within the church, whether I'm still a Priest or not – see I was never actually defrocked, and…"Josef halted when he saw Roisin waving to him excitedly, she had been keen to see her Uncle's Church, and now they were here. "It's just complicated, Church dogma and tradition, nothing for you to worry about." He let go of Mick's hand then and planted an affectionate kiss on the side of Mick's face. "Tell Roisin I'll be out soon."

_scene break_

"Uncle Josef?" A tentative knock on the hotel room door, and then Roisin was pushing the door open just a crack, just enough that she could peer in and see that her Uncle was already dressed in his vestments. "I take it that's not a costume then," she joked as she watched her Uncle muttering a prayer in Latin as he tied a cincture around the waist of his cassock.

"No, this isn't a costume," Josef replied as he fidgeted with the heavy robes. "And I thought your Uncle Mick told you to wait outside."

"He said you'd be out soon," Roisin sounded apologetic, as if she'd inadvertently stumbled in on some deeply private ritual without being aware. "I'm sorry, I didn't know…"

Josef was at the door then, opening it wide and trying to offer what he hoped was a reassuring enough smile to counteract his niece's look of contrition. He trailed a dismissive hand through the air.

"Don't worry about it, there's just a whole song and dance ritual that goes with putting this on."

"Okay," Roisin nodded her understanding, and gave a sheepish smile. "I still don't know what to call you when you're dressed like that."

Suddenly they were both transported back to another time, a 13 year old girl on her Birthday, seeing her Uncle in the costume of a Priest for the first time.

"To be honest, I don't know what to call myself," Josef looked down at his vestments. "Once a Priest always a Priest…"

"Like Melchizedek of old."

"You've been studying up," Josef raised a suitably impressed eyebrow, before ushering his niece out of the room. "Come on, you've been waiting thirty odd years for this, might as well get the show on the road."

Underneath it all Josef bristled at the thought of meeting this new Father Michael.

* * *

"Father Lucias, what a pleasure to have you in back in our humble church. Dominus tecum," Father Michael swept towards them no sooner had the managed to get three feet inside the door. It took Josef exactly two point one seconds decide not only did he dislike the man, he didn't trust him. Still he gave the required response.

"Et cum spiritu tuo. Mind if we have a look around?" Josef looked at this new Priest warily; he reeked of cheap showy tricks and insincerity.

"Please, be my guest, this is your Church too after all." Again that same too accommodating tone, Josef was beginning to bristle in the man's presence. "Perhaps you'd like to stay for evening mass; we've allowed some flexibility, bought in a more charismatic element."

"How did you know who my Uncle was?" Roisin stood at one of the pews, examining the intricacy of the hand carving. Already she was wide eyed at her surroundings, soaking in the atmosphere of the place her Uncle had once called home. "I mean we didn't even have time to introduce ourselves," Roisin's voice dropped to a reverential whisper then, "was it the paintings, you have portraits of him here don't you?"

Josef caught Roisin's arms when she took a step forward and felt her knees buckle. He held her until she had regained her composure.

"Are you okay my dear?" Father Michael was there by her side as well, holding her up, his arms wrapped tight around her shoulders. Josef had to give him credit, he played the part of a Priest well, but something was off. "How far advanced is it, if you don't mind me asking?"

The question caught Roisin off guard, "How far is what?"

"Your cancer," Father Michael drew the line of his mouth into what passed for a sympathetic smile, and then tapped the side of his nose conspiratorially, "a man of the cloth knows these things, just as the Lord knows all and heals all who come to him in spirit and supplication."

"Now hear the word of the lord," Josef couldn't resist getting at least one subtle dig in. He took Roisin from the Priest's grasp then and sat her down. "You sure you're okay, say the word and I'll take you back to the hotel."

"What, and miss my only opportunity to see an actual picture of you as a lowly mortal," Roisin grinned at her Uncle with good natured teasing. "I'm fine, really. Stop fussing, you're getting as bad as Mick you know."

"I shall make a note to cut it out then," Josef deadpanned, before shifting the conversation back to matters at hand. "I assume the Vatican contacted Father Michael prior to my arrival, seeing as I'll be assisting in Miriam's baptism," Josef held up a steadying hand before Roisin could throw her arms around him. "Assist, Roisin, not do the baptism myself."

Roisin hugged her Uncle anyway. Her frail body felt small and fragile rested against his own.

"She has a few weeks, six if we're lucky," Josef informed Father Michael then, and gauged his response. He was certain he saw dollar signs and 'faith healer' flashing before the Priest's eyes.

"You will attend our evening service tonight, won't you," Father Michael pressed then, playing the role of the welcoming village Priest to the hilt.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world."

_scene break_

"Hey, how'd it go?" Mick greeted the both of them at the car as soon as it had pulled into the hotel's parking lot, and then quickly ran through a list of things that still needed to be done before they could consider themselves fully settled in.

"Fine, we'll get some of the lower rank members to pull their weight, get the rest of the freezers installed by morning," Josef climbed out of the driver's seat and greeted Mick with a quick kiss. "As for Father Michael row your boat ashore, he's invited us to mass tonight. Apparently we're all going to be saved, or healed, or possibly exorcised. I wasn't too clear on the details on account of my hating him."

"Okay," Mick smiled at Josef's off the cuff remarks; even so there was still a hint of wariness that flickered across his features. He decided to change the subject, wayward Priests they could discuss later, alone. "So how did Roisin enjoy her trip down history lane, you get to show her any of those old portraits of you?"

"She wasn't feeling well," Josef gestured to Mick to give him a hand. The sitting down part had been easy; it was getting her to stand again that had been the issue. "Let's just get her inside."

_scene break_

A nurse hovered over Roisin's bed, checking vital signs, and adjusting the steady drip, drip, drip of glucose into her veins.

"This should help," she turned to Josef, seated on the end of the bed and offered what reassurances she could. "I've given her something for the pain as well; she'll probably drift in and out."

"Thank you," Josef reached into the pocket of his suit coat for his wallet, and peeled off five hundred dollars in hundred dollar bills. "Consider it a bonus, look after her properly and there's plenty more where that come from."

"_At least money could still buy some things, a nice car, a decent death_," Josef thought bitterly as the Nurse accepted the money he was offering with polite gratitude.

"Uncle Josef?" Roisin stirred then, her voice sounding hoarse and distant.

"Yeah poppet, I'm here," Josef shifted closer and took Roisin's hand.

"You used to call me that when I was a little girl," Roisin managed a weak smile.

"How are you feeling?" Josef swallowed down rising emotions and steered the conversation towards the present. "Nurse said that stuff they're running through you should help."

"Better, I feel better," Roisin struggled to sit up in her weakened state, finally managing to prop herself up her on her elbows. "Miriam," she looked around the room, dazed from the narcotics they'd given her, "where's Miriam, I need to…"

"Mick's taking care of her," Josef placed a hand on his niece's shoulder and bid her lay back down. "All you have to do is lie here and be waited on hand and foot, sounds like a good deal to me," it was a hollow attempt at humour.

"Yeah, except for the 'I'm dying' part," Roisin squeezed her Uncle's hand. "I like this part though, us, the back and forth, it's nice, easy."

Josef didn't answer, just let Roisin rest – until rest drifted slowly into sleep.

* * *

It was almost six o'clock when Roisin finally stirred. Josef found himself awoken by the sounds of cords and tubes rattling as his niece attempted to manoeuvre herself into a more comfortable position.

"Hey, you're awake," Josef noticed then that Mick was with them, curled up at the foot of Roisin's be. "Hope we didn't make you too uncomfortable falling asleep on top of you like that." There was a twinkle in Josef's eye, even as he made his apologies and moved to shift the pillows behind Roisin's back.

"I dreamt there were two tigers lying across my feet, they were keeping me warm" Roisin stretched, and yawned, still shaking off the last vestals of sleep. "What time is mass?"

"Eight 'o' clock," Josef reached out to brush a stray tendril of hair from his niece's face as Mick awoke next to him.

Roisin managed a weak smile. "Something tells me I won't be up to going."

"No, I don't think you will be either," Josef felt Mick's hand slip into his. "I should probably get their early though; have a chat with Father Michael before the floor show begins.

"You don't trust him do you?" Mick spoke then, his gaze shifting from his husband to his niece and back again, trying to gauge the mood in the room when it came to this new Priest.

"I thought we already established that." Josef stood up, intent on giving his niece a quick kiss before taking his leave.

"He seemed okay to me," Roisin shrugged as she presented her cheek to her Uncle.

"Yeah, well, I'm getting mixed signals. And that doesn't usually bode well. Come on," Josef turned to Mick then. "We should be getting ready."

_scene break_

"You thinking we should take some security with us tonight?" Alone now with Josef, Mick pulled on a pair of black chinos and slipped his arms into the sleeves of a matching dress shirt. "Just to be on the safe side I mean."

"Probably a good idea," Josef nodded a quick agreement. Already dressed he had foregone his robes for a tailored suit.

"I'll make some arrangements then."

Leaning in close to plant a lingering kiss on his husband's lips, Mick left Josef to ponder his worries about the evening ahead. Something wasn't right, it was a feeling he hadn't been able to shake from the moment he laid eyes on Father Michael. Josef looked out the window at the activity still going on, the comings and goings of the hotel staff and removalists still bringing in the last of the freezers. He wondered who the stragglers were. Probably the traditionalists baulking at having to stay in such low rent accommodation. What did they expect, a castle with a moat and a full complement of servants. His thoughts began to drift away from Father Michael. By the time he'd arranged for a car to be bought round, he'd almost begun to relax.

_scene break_

"So what did you mean by mixed signals, exactly?" Mick asked as they drove to their destination.

Josef could feel the hairs on the back of his neck prick up, the relaxed feeling he had back at the hotel rapidly dissipating the closer they got.

"Is there a problem, your Excellency?"

They'd chosen one of the higher ranked members of the Order as escort, a vampire by the name of Barabacus, known for his diplomatic skills as much as being able to land a decent punch. Concern was etched across his features as he leant forward and addressed Josef as Grand Chancellor.

"Hopefully not, but let's just say this one was giving off vibes when I met him earlier today."

They were outside the Church then; Josef was surprised to see a sizable throng of worshippers already gathered.

"Wow, guess you weren't kidding about the floor show," Mick remarked as Barabacus quickly assessed the crowd before them. Finding no immediate threats he stood aside as Josef and Mick filed past him.

"Father Luci…" Father Michael stopped his overly theatrical greeting when he noticed Josef's lack of priestly attire. "So what am I to call you this evening? You know I was hoping you could have assisted me, it's not often we have one of the original parish Priests turn up for a visit."

Father Michael had taken Josef by the arm and was leading him towards the chancel.

"My name is Josef Kostan, I haven't gone by Father Lucias in a very long time," Josef pulled away from Father Michael's grasp as politely as he could, waiting then for Mick and Barabacus to catch up a few steps behind them.

"And I see you've bought guests with you," Father Michael clapped his hands with over the top delight as he swept forward to greet the two men flanking Josef either side. Mick was beginning to see what Josef had meant when he said he didn't trust this Priest. He was a little too friendly, a little too happy to greet them like old friends.

"My husband, Mick St John," Josef gestured toward Mick, and was interrupted then.

"Husband?" Father Michael raised a concerned eyebrow, gone was the kindly Priest with the overly friendly greetings. "That may be an issue."

"For who, exactly?" Josef's response was short as Barabacus took a step forward, sensing the sudden tension in the room. Josef quickly waved him back.

"I see you've bought an escort with you, that's probably for the best," Father Michael drew a handkerchief from the pocket of his robes and mopped his brow. "Not that it matters to me of course…"

"No, of course," Josef interjected with a thin lipped smile.

"Just some of our parishioners are a little old fashioned. We do tend to take a more fundamentalist view of God's word in this Church."

"So what happened, the Baptists weren't coughing up enough, so you decided to fleece the Catholics instead," Josef muttered under his breath, just low enough for Mick and Barabacus to hear.

Mick stifled a laugh as Father Michael gestured for the three of them to take a sit in the front pew. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name," he approached Barabacus then, his hand outstretched palm up, returning to his kindly Priest routine.

"Barabacus," he nodded curtly, and kept both hands by his side, refusing to be drawn into this Priest and his sham greetings.

"Yes, well," Father Michael cleared his throat somewhat nervously and turned to Josef. "I probably should start setting up. I'm sorry your lovely niece was unable to peruse our archives earlier today," he said then, as he busied himself setting up the various tools and items to be used on the altar. "I take it she's still feeling poorly, dear little mite."

"They gave her something to help her rest." It took Josef all his strength not to launch himself at this charlatan. He didn't give a flying fuck about Roisin, or her condition. Josef could smell the stench of disappointment radiating from the Priest's very being. He no longer had the star of his show, a young girl dying of cancer, miraculously healed by the power of suggestion and the collective energies of the group around her. It was an age old trick.

A band was setting up just to one side of the altar then, complete with electric guitars and drum kit. Josef rolled his eyes toward the ceiling of the Church. So it was going to be one of those affairs, he thought disdainfully - rock band blasting, sins being forcefully cast out of those who wanted to believe, the lost and the hopeless looking for a grain of purpose they could cling to.

The service began. For an ordained Catholic Priest, Father Michael seemed to struggle through the more traditional litany. It was just one more nail in the coffin of suspicion that had been building from the moment Josef had met this so called man of the cloth.

And then Father Michael was grabbing a microphone and exalting the masses to, "Step forward, step forward in Jesus's name and be washed by the blood of the lamb. For the lord casts out all demons tonight, hallelujah."

"Hallelujah," the congregation responded in turn, some with their hands raised, speaking in tongues as the driving beat of the band whipped the parishioners into a frenzy.

"I thought a Catholic Mass was supposed to be a little more low key than this," Mick leant over and whispered to Josef out the corner of his mouth.

"Funny about that, so did I."

Father Michael's attention was focused on Josef then. Both Mick and Barabacus felt themselves tense in anticipation of a fight as the Priest jabbed a finger toward where Josef was seated. "Step forward my son," he shouted to the ceiling above with hands raised then. "Step forward and be saved."

"Been there, done that, got the ordination to prove it" Josef grinned at the pantomime that was being put on and gestured for Mick and Barabacus to stand down. He wanted to see how this played out.

Josef found himself being pulled from his seat then, a crucifix pressed against his forehead as the Priest gripped the back of his head and exalted the spirits of evil to leave this humble servant of God. It was all he could do to keep from laughing. This charlatan wanted to put on a show; two could play at that game. Josef began reciting the Roman Ritual in Latin, as Mick hovered nearby, ready to pounce at a moment's notice. Father Michael had no idea how close to being torn to shreds he was at that very moment. It was then Josef realised Father Michael hadn't believed a word of what he'd been told about vampires and a 17th century Priest seemingly returned from the grave.

Josef felt a sharp pain in his chest then - a stake, no not a stake, a knife, sliding in between his ribs and piercing his lung. He quickly turned to Mick and Barabacus, both now poised to strike, and gave them a surreptitious wink. Charlatan or not, Priests didn't usually go round stabbing members of their congregation. He needed to know what was going on, and the only way to do that was to play along – for now.

Josef pretended to slump forward then, pushing the knife in further as he fell to the ground. He sensed Mick by his side then. Father Michael, if that was even his real identity was busy exhorting his flock to leave, quickly, the devil was among them. Josef used the opportunity to instruct Mick not to do anything, not yet. He was planning on giving the good Father a fright he'd remember for the rest of his life, if he lived that long.

Josef waited until he heard the last of the parishioners leaving - car engines firing up, the doors of the church being locked and bolted. He waited until he heard the swish, swish, swish of Father Michael's robes as he walked along the nave, approaching where Josef lay seemingly impaled on a dagger, dead, or near dying. It was only when Josef sensed the man was almost on top of them that he stood up.

"You've got about ten seconds to explain yourself, before we tear you to pieces," Josef's voice was low and menacing as he pulled the knife from his chest, the wound already healing before the Priest's eyes.

"Oh holy mother of God," Father Michael frantically crossed himself as he stared at the three men in front of him; snarling now, inhuman, eyes flashing to ice cold blue as the colour drained from their faces. "Oh Jesus, oh sweet Mary you can't be real."

Father Michael was on the verge of losing his grip on sanity completely as Mick grabbed him by the throat and lifted him clear off the ground with one hand.

"Now, now, my beloved," Josef chortled with amusement as Father Michael hung there and struggled futilely for air. "We can't get him to talk if we strangle him to death."

"Lance," the Priest managed to rasp out. "Lance Duvall."

Mick dropped the half conscious man to the ground, and booted him square in the ribs, breaking several in the process. "What about Lance?"

Father Michael groaned in pain, and made a feeble attempt to drag himself away, before Mick landed another blow. "Answer me, what about Lance?"

The injured man gritted his teeth against the pain. "I was hired; he told me some big shot vampire needed taking out. I thought he was mad…"

"But you took the money anyway," Josef knelt by this imposter in Priest's robes. "You're not even an ordained Priest, are you?"

"No," the man shook his head, whimpering now as the reality of what he was facing washed over him in sickening waves. "That was part of the plan, take the Priest out and assume his role. Lance has been keeping track of you, he has operatives everywhere. I can show you where they are, maps, blueprints, hide outs, whatever you need. Just please, please don't kill me."

Josef grabbed the man by the shoulder and roughly pulled him to his feet. "Consider yourself a prisoner. We've just gone to war."


	19. Chapter 16

"Son of a bitch, he'll pay for this," Josef muttered under his breath, cell phone pressed against his ear as they sped back to the hotel. Pierre finally answered on the tenth ring, Josef wasted no time bringing him up to speed on what had just transpired. "I want guards on Roisin's room, now. Send Anton and Victor, I'm not taking any chances."

Anton and Victor were two out of the twenty assassins they had at their disposal, the rest were to be called to an emergency council meeting. Josef wanted everything ready by the time they arrived back, in less than five minutes.

"Consider it done." With no time to waste Pierre set about making arrangements.

"What is it, what's happened?" The expression on Pierre's face hadn't gone unnoticed; Katherine was by his side then, her questions becoming more and more frantic as he bustled from one room to another. "Why are there guards being placed on Roisin's room, what did Josef just tell you?"

"Sweetheart," Pierre stopped momentarily and placed a soothing hand on his wife's shoulder. "Light of my immortal life, everything is fine. Roisin is being kept safe, and Josef will be back any minute. He's called an emergency meeting; apparently things at the Church weren't what they seemed." Pierre caressed a tender hand along the curve of Katherine's cheek, "I really need to attend to this, go, sit with Roisin a while."

"Don't dismiss me like that, Pierre, and don't patronise me," Katherine countered with her Irish lilt. "I can tell by the look on your face that everything is not fine."

"And the best thing you can do right now is to go be with Roisin. Let the Order handle this."

A quick kiss and Pierre was hurrying away from her sight, moving towards the entrance way at the end of the hall where Josef and Mick had just arrived. Barabacus, and another man, struggling against the chains that bound him were standing alongside.

"I take it this is the prisoner?" Pierre took charge then, the man they had established as Nicholas Dubraski being dragged along the passage way, half tripping, half stumbling as he was lead into a large sized conference room.

"Geez, if I'd known I was gonna be put up in a place like this, I might have gone with your side first." Nicholas spoke like a streetwise thug, gone was the kindly old Priest routine. For his efforts he received a back hand across the face, bruising his jaw and knocking out three of his teeth.

Josef held up a hand, signalling Pierre to take it easy. "We need him talking, not beaten to a bloody pulp. Besides, considering I was the one on the pointy end of a dagger I call dibs on any violence."

Nicholas Dubraski could hear the cracking of knuckles just near his ear. If he was going to get out of this alive he had to think, and fast. Overpowering a room full of Vampires would be sheer insanity, his only safe bet was to co-operate, hold back just a little bit, enough for them to keep him alive until her could work out a way to escape. It hit him then, the way he'd just thought of them, as Vampires, mythical creatures of the night, like it was an everyday occurrence. He couldn't afford to be afraid, not now, not like he was back there at the Church. Vampires were real Nikki boy, get used to it.

The room was filling with them now, thirty or more blanched white faces, like fresh corpses on parade. Each of them completely vamped out in a show of intimidation.

It was only then that Nicholas Dubraski realised his bowels had finally given out.

_scene break_

The members assembled, Josef called the meeting to order. Nicholas Dubraski has been placed centre stage in the middle of the room. Soiled and terrified, the stench of fear coming off him was palpable. Josef approached the man slowly, circled the chair he was chained to, and then placed a hand on his shoulder, his fingers digging into nerve endings just above Nicholas Dubraski's collarbone, sending shooting waves of pain throughout the man's body.

"Start talking," Josef's face was inches from Dubraski's own then.

"And what, tell you everything I know and then you kill me when I'm no longer any used to you. I'm the one trying to survive here."

Josef kicked Dubraski's chair over, spilling him onto his back. He stood over the hapless figure, and leant down. "Did you know I once tortured a man so severely that my husband over there crawled into the corner of the room and vomited black bile?" Josef's tone was matter of fact, but his expression was anything but. His words turned to ice. "Now I'm going to ask you this one more time, start talking. Who are you, and how did Lance Duvall hire you?"

Self-preservation taking over, Nicholas Dubraski began to talk. "I'm a mercenary, a hired hand. I do the jobs no one else wants to do for the right price. I spent ten years training with the Kolinsky crime family, another ten in Sierra Leone training with the Guerrilla forces there. Lance Duvall approached me, said he has something he wanted taken care of."

"How much did he pay you?" Josef lifted the man by the scruff of the neck and set his chair back upright. Murmurs ran through the assembled throngs of the Order, whispers and comparisons to Josef's predecessor. Pierre caught Josef's eye and gave him a brief nod of approval, Auguste would have handled things just the same way. A stinging blow caught Dubraski on the side of the face then. Josef repeated his question.

"Five million upfront, another twenty when the job was done."

"And what if I make you a better offer," Josef drew the line of his mouth into a disarming smile then.

Nicholas Dubraski began to relax then. This was more like it; this was a playing field he could manoeuvre on. "What are you offering?"

"Your life."

* * *

They'd worked into the early hours of the morning, several of the older order members grumbling about killing Dubraski and be done with it as the first rays of light streamed into the room. Josef shot them a look that could kill, and drew the curtains, bringing some welcome relief.

Back in their rooms now, Josef and Mick took stock of the situation.

"What do you think he meant by 'Lance has something he needs taken care of'?" Mick was slipping out of his clothes, dress shirt and chino's discarded onto the floor. He'd worry about hanging them up later.

"I'm assuming I was to be phase one of the plans, you know, cut off the head the body will crumble. Got to love the classics." Josef took a moment to stand back and admire the sight in front of him. He was behind Mick then, his arms slipping around Mick's waist. "Is it just me, or are you trying to turn me on?"

"Well I figured all that posturing and violence; you must have worked up an appetite for something," Mick replied drolly as he guided Josef's hand onto his cock.

They stayed like that for a few moments, Mick rocking back and forth on his heels, trying to heighten the sensation as Josef's hand worked its way back and forth across his length. Josef's free hand fumbled with the fastenings on his trousers, suit pants and underwear hastily slung around his knees. Mick was bent over at the waist then, hands braced against the wall in front of them, a hurried application of saliva, and then pain, brief and sharp, before pleasure took over.

Somehow they made it over to the bed, Mick's legs bent back against his chest, fingers clutching at Josef's back as they fucked and growled out expletives, snarling at one another in primal pleasure. Josef pressed his lips against Mick's own, fangs scraping together in an awkward choreography of mouths and tongues as they moved together, the pace quickening until time seemed to freeze for that one perfect moment and the world around them fell away in a heady mix of semen and blood.

"Anyone would think we haven't had sex in a month," Josef extricated his fangs from Mick's lips, and quirked a smile.

"We don't know what's coming," Mick sounded very earnest then as he helped Josef strip off the rest of his clothes. "If either one of has to go out…"

"…We should go out fucking?"

"Yeah, something like that." Straddling Josef's waist, Mick was already up for round two.

_…Anything not to lose him, anything to feel a last moment of connection._

_Scene break_

"You okay?" Josef ran a tender finger along the line of Mick's jaw, and cupped Mick's face in his hand, still crumpled with sleep under the blue light of the freezer.

"Yeah," Mick nodded, still shaking off the last vestiges of slumber. He pressed the release button on the freezer lid and sat up then. "This thing with Lance scares the crap out of me."

"Yes, well, anyone who isn't afraid is either lying or they're a liability who shouldn't be here. Fear keeps us on our toes, or our backs, or our hands and knees, or our, ouch." Josef hollered in mock pain as Mick dug an elbow into his ribs.

A moment of shared laughter, Mick could feel some of the tension draining away. He reached for Josef in the blue light then.

"Very tempting, but I'm afraid we have work to do, "Josef followed his rejection with a lingering kiss. "Later, I promise. In the meantime I need you to take the meeting this morning. I have some phone calls I need to make, the Vatican for a start. Looks like Roisin's going to get her wish after all. I'm the only Priest in the village."

"Couldn't they get someone…?" Mick stopped when he saw the look Josef was giving him. "Oh, right, gotcha, you're playing the angles game."

"Exactly."

* * *

"Uncle Mick, come in."

"Hey kiddo how are you doing? Mick greeted the pale figure on the bed. If it were even possible she looked smaller than she had yesterday. A shadow surrounded by plump white pillows and the constant blip of machinery.

Roisin patted a spot next to her on the bed, and waited for her Uncle to sit down. "Mum said something about a meeting this morning."

"Yeah," Mick quickly checked his watch and then offered his niece a contrite look. "In less than ten minutes. Your Uncle Josef is busy with phone calls…"

"…It's okay Uncle Mick, I won't keep you long. I know you and I have had our differences in the past," Roisin held up a hand to stop her Uncle's planned protest. "But you've always been honest with me. So tell me, what's going on? Mum fusses, and Uncle Josef acts like I'll break if he touches me, but no one will tell me what's going on. I'm not stupid, I might not have a vampire's sense of hearing, but I can still tell things have been a lot busier around here lately. And there's tension in the air that even I can sense."

"It looks like Lance has decided to draw first blood. That Priest at the church wasn't a priest."

"One of Lance's operatives?" Roisin took a moment to compose herself.

"Hired hand goes by the name of Nicholas Dubraski. He tried to assassinate your Uncle at mass last night," Mick spat those words out in anger and distaste. "Guess he didn't believe Lance's tale about vampires though, because the idiot tried to use a knife."

"And now?"

Mick laughed - a hollow, mocking laugh as he remembered Dubraski cowering in fear. "Oh I think we've taken care of that."

"So what happens from here?" Mick heard Roisin asking then.

"We're sending the first wave of assassins to Lance's strongholds to secure his weapons. After that we'll hit his place full force."

Roisin was thinking then, "The first wave, they're the twenty that came with us, Anton and the rest?"

"Yes," Mick nodded. His brow furrowing slightly as he wondered where his niece was going with this.

"There's a wheelchair in the cupboard over there," Roisin pointed to the corner of the room. "Get it for me; they'll need time to prepare. I can at least take them through their meditation exercises."

Mick took one look at the steely resolve on his niece's face and knew arguing with her would be an exercise in futility.

"We've got them booked on red eye specials in three days. That gives us just enough time to lean on Dubraski and get as much info out of him as we can."

"That's all the time I need."

* * *

Heads bowed as Mick wheeled Roisin into the converted dining room where the Order's twenty best assassins were going through their paces.

"I'll leave you to it," Mick bent to place a gentle kiss on his niece's forehead. "The conference room and this one are both linked via a direct data interface system. You need anything…"

"…It's okay, Uncle Mick, I know the drill. I need anything just rasp."

Mick forced a smile at his niece's gallows humour, and took his leave. Striding down the hallway there was only one thing on his mind then, Dubraski better start talking, and fast. Mick paused just outside the entrance to the conference room and cracked each of his knuckles in turn. He was itching for a fight; all he needed was Dubraski to give him a single excuse.

"Gentleman," Mick greeted the assembled throng with a deferential nod, exerting his authority as Vice Chancellor, a role he had become increasingly comfortable with since the situation with Lance had first begun. "Let's get down to it."

Judging by the looks on some of the faces around the table, most of the Order members had also managed to sleep all day and most of the night. Mick took stock of the situation, sleep had been good, they'd obviously all needed some sub-zero time to refresh and revive after the previous night's marathon. The time for games was over now though. Dubraski had been holding out on them, this time Mick intended to make him talk.

Back in the training room it was Anton who stepped forward first.

"Excuse me, ma'am, but we're quite capable of taking ourselves through the exercises. You should be in bed."

"I've had more training than the twenty of you combined," Roisin took a moment to catch her breath, the oxygen tank next to her filling her lungs with much needed air. "In three days' time you won't be going up against a group of mortals, you'll be going against your own kind, with an arsenal big enough to blow a sizeable whole in the entire Vampire nation. Right now you need me."

Anton inclined his head and stepped back. The rest of the group remained silent, awaiting Roisin's command.

Roisin clapped her hands, bringing the room to attention.

"Right, shall we begin?"

_scene break_

"And the first wave, they're ready to go?" Levi, one of the older vamps asked as they began to discuss strategy.

"Roisin's working with them now."

"Are you sure that's wise?" Levi spoke up again. "She's not exactly in the best of health."  
"Have you ever tried telling my niece she's not allowed to do something?" Mick cocked an eyebrow in Levi's direction, and then turned his attention to Dubraski. "I don't have a lot of time, and I hate repeating myself," Mick tapped the pen and paper on the desk in front of the man. "Information, strong holds, weapon stores, all of it. Start writing."

"And if I refuse?"

Mick perched on the edge of the table where Dubraski sat chained at the waist and ankles. "Then my husband will torture you, probably kill you in the process, bring you back to life, and torture you again."

Dubraski began to write then, scribbling down notes and schematics. "So what happens once I hand this over to you, you just gonna let me leave like nothing's happened?"

"Josef's already offered you your life. Me? I'm more inclined to give you a nice big fat pay check and send you as far away from us as possible. Your choice."

Dubraski considered the offer for a moment. "Okay, deal; I'll give you everything you need. You don't think I'm stupid do you? I scoped out as much info on Lance's plans as I could, just in case he decided to renege."

"And then what, you would have to come to us, cap in hand?" Mick looked around the room as the rest of the Order tittered in amusement.

"Yeah," Dubraski forced a fake smile, "something like that."

_scene break_

"So, how did you get on with our new arrival," Josef smoothed a hand over Mick's denim clad hip as they lay together and went through the day's proceedings. "Please tell me you smacked him around at least a little bit."

"Didn't have to, "Mick smiled, his hands moving to the buttons on Josef's shirt. "I waved dollar signs in his face and he sang like the proverbial canary."

"You offered him money?" Josef looked miffed.

"Well it's not like we shook on it, or anything."

"Ooh, sneaky," Josef grinned, and stole a quick kiss. "I guess that means I didn't shake on the not killing him part either."

"Well yeah, there's that too," Mick ran a distracted hand down the front of Josef's exposed chest. He seemed resolute about disposing of Dubraski once he'd reached his use by date.

"You know the Mick I knew eighty years ago would have baulked at the idea of executing a man," Josef shifted closer, moving into Mick's touch. "So what happened to 'mortals, yay'?

Oh it's still in there," Mick gave a decisive smile. "Let's just say on occasion I have more important things to think about - like getting you out of the rest of these clothes."

They still hadn't talked about Roisin's insistence on taking the assassin's through their paces, or what the outcome of Josef's call to the Vatican had been. For now all of that could wait. Josef slipped of the remainder of his clothing, and watched as Mick did the same.

"Better?" Josef hooked one leg across Mick's thigh then, and began riding up against him.

"Much."


	20. Chapter 17

"Uncle Mick?" Roisin stirred from her deep sleep, two days' worth of meditation training with the Order's assassins had left her more exhausted than she'd expected. "Where's Uncle Josef?" She looked around the room, expecting her Uncle to be there. Her mind felt foggy, drifting in and out of her surroundings.

_Quid petis ab Ecclésia Dei?_

Fidem.

Fides, quid tibi præstat?

Vitam ætérnam.

She remembered then, Miriam had been baptised last night. She'd been too weak to hold her child in her arms. Mick had done so instead while she sat and watched, trying to give the correct responses to words she didn't understand.

"Command central," she heard her Uncle responding. She struggled a little to sit up, asking where Miriam was.

"She's with Katherine; do you want me to get her?" Mick's manner brightened; maybe Roisin asking for her daughter was a good thing. She looked so small and pale lying there in the bed, swamped by machines and pillows.

Roisin shook her head. "No, it's okay, she should enjoy some time with her Grandma. Maybe Mum can explain to her what Uncle Josef was talking about last night," Roisin's attempt at laughter quickly turned into a chest rattling cough. Her Uncle was by her side then, supporting her through the pain.

"You too huh?" Mick smiled as he soothed a hand over his niece's back. "I never know what the hell he's saying when he talks like that. It sounds nice though."

Roisin caught the faraway look on Mick's face. "I think you mean sexy, don't you, Uncle Mick?" She teased, looking for normality, the two of them just talking, laughing with one another over all the little quirks of Mick's relationship with Josef. She didn't want to admit she could feel herself dying. "I don't remember much of last night." Her expression changed then, became saddened.

"Your Uncle Josef did a good job." Mick didn't know what else to say. Roisin seemed more tired than usual; they'd increased the dosage of morphine the night before. He wondered if a surprise might cheer her up. God knows with the funeral pall that'd been cast over the hotel the past few days they could both use it.

"You look like you're planning something." Roisin noted the look on her Uncle's face, and managed a weak smile.

"Stay there, I'll be back soon." Mick returned carrying a picture frame embossed with gold leaf that had cracked and flaked with the passage of years. "Here, we borrowed it from the Church's archives last night; it's your Uncle Josef when he was still mortal. I know you wanted to see a portrait of him from back then."

"I did, thank you." Roisin's voice sounded small and distant as she studied the figure in the painting, tracing the finer details of the face with a careful finger. "It still looks like Uncle Josef." Roisin's brow furrowed then as she searched for the subtle differences, the tell-tale signs of mortality she had felt sure would have been there.

"Of course, what did you expect him to look like?" Mick looked momentarily confused, unsure of his niece's reasoning. "I mean aside from the robes that's still your Uncle Josef."

"I don't know." Roisin shook her head, her brow furrowing further. "I mean I saw him when he'd taken the cure, but that wasn't true mortality, he was still a vampire underneath. I thought…"

"You thought there'd be something different about him in these pictures?" Mick gently prompted.

"Yeah." Roisin nodded, her eyes still glued to the picture until her Uncle gently prized it from her hands and set it to one side.

"You sure you don't want your Mom to sit with you for a while? Bring Miriam in for a visit? I think she's still a little cranky from having water poured all over last night." Mick was angling for something.

"Uncle Mick if you have to go it's okay. I'm not planning to drop dead anytime between now and the next five minutes."

Mick tried not to flinch; Roisin's gallows humour still caught him off guard from time to time. He smoothed a lock of her hair from her forehead. "I should be helping Josef with the meeting; we're sending the assassins in first thing tomorrow morning, got some last minute details to go over."

"And when you're done with that I think I'd like a party."

"I beg your pardon?" Mick did a double take at Roisin's sudden announcement. He was sure it was just the morphine speaking, she was becoming delirious. He wondered if he should call the Nurse.

"I said I'd like a party." Roisin's voice rose determined this time, even through the haze of morphine. "Everyone's walking around like I'm already dead, and you and I know both know not everyone's coming back from the raid tomorrow."

"We don't know that…"

"I want a send-off; I want to give the others a send-off. I'm the one who's worked with them the most all these years. I want a chance to say goodbye, properly." She fixed her gaze on her Uncle then, her face a mask of resolve. "I want one last moment to celebrate life before I go."

Mick nodded his agreement. "I'll talk to your Uncle Josef, we'll work something out."

How could he say no?

_scenebreak_

Josef caught Mick's eye as he entered the room, and raised a questioning eyebrow. Mick shook his head. Now wasn't the time to be discussing other matters.

In the middle of the room, still chained by the waist, Nicholas Dubraski sat scrawling out page after page of diagrams and notes. His fingers curled tight around the pencil he'd been given, the tip pressed hard against each piece of paper, working like his life depended on it.

"There," Dubraski threw the pencil down then. "That's everything, now let me go." He tugged at his chains and glared at Josef, chin thrust out with determination. Wasn't no creature of the night gonna scare Nicholas Dubraski, not again. "We had a deal."

"So we did," Josef approached in slow measured steps, radiating menace under his casual demeanour. He leant down when he reached the man, placed his face inches from Dubraski's own. "Give me one good reason why I should trust that the information you've just given us is correct. We'll wait until tomorrow, and if you haven't led us into a trap then you may just get to keep your head." Josef leant in even closer, "Now is there anything you'd like to revise in your information or do we understand one another?"

"Nah, we're good," Dubraski swallowed nervously and tried to lean away.

"Good," Josef purred in a parody of acceptance, before instructing his security team to take Dubraski back to his holding quarters.

Mick was by Josef's side then, vying for his attention in a sea of activity. He pulled Josef aside.

"We might have a problem."

Josef raised a cautious eyebrow. "Oh yeah, like what?"

"Roisin's decided she wants to throw a going away party, tonight." Mick had paused before delivering the timing of the news.

"Tonight?" Josef crossed one leg over the other and casually leant his weight on one hip, his arms folded across his chest. "Please tell me you're joking."

"Afraid not, and she seems pretty determined," Mick drew an arm around his husband's shoulder. "Josef, it sounds like this is something really important to her, and I don't think it's just the morphine talking either."

Josef rubbed two fingers across his forehead, trying to gather his thoughts in the wake of the chaos that was building all around them. Finally he gestured for Mick and Pierre to take over.

"There's something I need to take care of," he offered by way of explanation. No use saying anything further until he'd had a chance to speak with Roisin.

He paused to place a tender kiss on Mick's lips, before heading out the door.

* * *

Roisin was propped up in bed, notepad and pen in hand when her Uncle strode into the room. She winced a little in pain when she tried to lean forward to greet him.

Josef stood at arm's length away from the bed. "Mick tells me you've decided to throw a party."

Roisin tried adjusting her position again, this time the pain left her momentarily without the ability to think or speak.

"I just want a chance to celebrate what I have left, what I'm going to be leaving behind."

"You've turned your morphine pump down." Josef perched on the edge of the bed then.

"I had the nurse do it, it's bad enough I missed my own daughter's christening," Roisin smoothed the bed clothes over her legs as she tried to find a comfortable position.

"You know we took a considerable amount of risk performing that ceremony, leaving the confines of the hotel to go back to a Church that Lance just happens to be aware of." Josef pretended to inspect his nails as he spoke matter of fact. "And now you want to throw a party. Are you trying to get us all killed?"

"Uncle Josef," Roisin's voice sounded very small and strained then, a whisper in the night as she worked up the courage to say the next words. "I'm dying."

Josef scrubbed his hands across his face and for the first time let his weariness show, the stress of the last few days etched across his face. "I know you're dying, you don't have to remind me. I can scent it on you, we all can."

"Then can you scent how long I have left?" Roisin mustered what little strength she had. "Because I'm dying now, Uncle Josef, I can feel it. I don't know if I have until tomorrow or even the day after that. I want streamers and balloons and silly party hats just like when I was a child. I want to watch you and Uncle Mick dance together and bicker when one you gets a step wrong. I want to say goodbye, and I want to say thank you."

It was then Josef noticed the portrait leaning against the wall next to Roisin's bed. He picked it up, studied the image before him. It was like looking in a mirror and seeing a stranger staring back at him.

"I thought you'd look different," Josef heard Roisin saying then as she watched her Uncle's changing expression.

"More human you mean, like there'd be some giant flashing neon sign above my head saying 'mortal'." Josef placed the portrait back in its original position.

"They didn't have neon signs back in the 17th century Uncle Josef."

"Touché," Josef smiled at his niece's tongue in cheek response. He turned to her then. "So you can't see any difference between me as a human and me as a vampire as long as I'm not showing my vampire nature. Doesn't that tell you anything?"

"Yes, it tells me your angling for something we've already discussed," Roisin's tone was suddenly curt. "Whether I can see a difference or not doesn't matter. The fact is there is a difference; an absence of death…"

"…isn't life. I know." Josef relented then. They would carry Roisin's bed into the main conference room, and set her up like a princess, surrounded by all the colours in the world. "Don't worry," Josef leant over to kiss his niece's forehead. "Short notice or not we'll give you one hell of a send-off."

He stood up then and readied himself to make the announcement. For tonight at least, command central would be closed. "Who knows," Josef thought as he walked back along the corridor, "maybe this was just the edge they needed. A reminder of the community they were fighting for."

_scenebreak_

Mick had taken it upon himself to deck the conference room out in as many coloured balloons and streamers as he could possibly find or lift from the nearest store, open or not. He'd left money on the counter of each one, taking care to re-latch the door on his way out. Josef had raised an eyebrow when Mick had returned with his coterie in tail carrying what looked like half of party central's supply shipment.

"I learnt lock picking in the army, it comes in handy sometimes." Mick had smiled and dumped a handful of balloons into Josef's arms. "Start blowing," he'd instructed, before he realised that hadn't actually come out the way he'd meant it.

"Well you know ordinarily I'd love to, but the lights are way too bright, and I don't fancy on us having an audience."

"The balloons, Josef, not me, the balloons." Mick had managed to look both shamefaced and incredulous then.

Eventually the room had been set up. A mirror ball hanging from the ceiling sent out a spectacle of lights reflecting off metallic streamers. In the midst of it all a lone figure lay in bed and greeted the guests who approached with a shower of hugs and kisses. Mortal or not, this was her family. The only real family she'd ever known.

"Uncle Mick, Uncle Josef," Roisin called her Uncles over as the last of the gathered revellers had passed by to pay their respects. "This is wonderful, thank you."

As tiny and frail as she looked there was a glow that neither one of them had seen in a long time. Josef unceremoniously removed the wig she was wearing and plopped a fake Rastafarian hat and dreadlocks on her head.

"There, much better," he grinned as Roisin pretended to roll her eyes and straightened her new head attire.

She pulled out a small computer chip then and handed it to Josef. "There's an old song on this I want you to play. It's for you and Uncle Mick."

Mick moved into Josef's arms as the first strains began to play. The whole room was silent then, save for the sound of the song that filled the room. Each member of the order contemplating their own loves lost and found. Pierre and Katherine stood on the side-lines, arms draped around one another, and heads rested together.

In the centre of it all Josef and Mick swayed together in time to the music, tangled up in each other's arms. Roisin watched as her Uncle's danced, moving ever closer to one another. She closed her eyes and tried to picture the energy around them.

_We are electricity,__  
conducting sparks,__  
shower with me_

"I love you," Mick whispered in Josef's ear then as he tightened his embrace. Tomorrow they'd be sending their fellow kindred into the eye of the storm. He wanted to freeze this moment in time.

"Ditto." Josef pressed his lips against Mick's own, his fingers gripping the back of Mick's skull as they kissed and let the world around them fall away.

_We made this about  
We made this about  
You and me  
You and me_

"They'll be fine you know," Katherine was by her daughter's side then, dabbing at the tears that spilled down her cheeks. "Your Uncle Mick and Josef have been through a lot together, trust me they're ready for whatever curveballs immortality has to throw at them. Josef has seen empires rise and fall; this will just be another blip on the radar of history for them."

"I'm not crying because I'm sad," Roisin wrinkled her nose and crumpled the tissue in her hand. "And it's nice to be a blip on someone's radar."

"I was talking about the attack tomorrow, sweetheart."

"I know Mum," Roisin replied. She looked tired then.

"You ready to call it a night?" Katherine smoothed a hand over her daughters' party wig.

"Yeah," Roisin managed a weak nod. It had only been an hour, but already she could feel her energy draining. Katherine arranged for her to be taken back to her room as Roisin bestowed last minute pieces of advice to the first wave of assassins that would be launching the offensive.

She glanced over her shoulder as the bed she was in was carried out the door.

Behind her, her Uncle's still danced.

* * *

They'd clung to one another throughout the night; hands clutching at sweat slicked backs, fingers encircling each other's length, the two of them falling over the edge again and again until the weight of the morning's events seemed a distant memory. Josef had produced a tin of grease at one point, laid Mick open and bare before him, wanton as he begged for his hand inside him and came in a mess of blood and semen, fangs bared, sinking hard into yielding flesh.

The first wave of attack had been sent at dawn. Pierre had agreed to take care of the logistics whilst Katherine kept watch over her daughter. Roisin's breathing had become more laboured throughout the night. They'd increased the dosage of morphine her and still she gasped with every breath. Katherine's heart ached for her offspring. There was to be no peaceful slipping off of the mortal coil.

Finally around 8 am Roisin had roused just long enough to ask for her Uncle, indicating she wanted to be anointed. Katherine had made a tearful request through the door of the bedroom where Mick and Josef lay wrapped up in each other's arms now.

"Guess it's show time," Josef had turned to Mick then, as he made his way over to the wardrobe where he'd carefully hung his robes of former office.

"Is this a Catholic's only type deal?" Mick watched as Josef went through the ritual of donning each garment. "I'd like to be there if it's okay."

"Of course," Josef nodded as he collected the items he needed to perform the ceremony, his hands shaking as he placed the sacramental wafers in the patent. "It's been centuries since I've had to do this."

"You still remember the words?" Mick was out of bed, pulling on an appropriately sombre suit, unsure of what exactly you were supposed to wear to a ceremony like this. Roisin wasn't dead yet, but Last Rites had that sense of finality about it. He paused in front of his ties and wondered if it would be okay to at least wear a splash of colour.

"Wear what you like," Josef caught Mick's deer in the headlights look as he searched through his tie rack. "And yes I remember the words; extreme unction was kind of big back in the day, what with people up and dying every five minutes. Believe me I've said those words often enough I'm sure they've permanently etched themselves into my brain."

Mick smiled as Josef pulled the last of his vestments over his head, and then knelt to pray as Katherine paced the floor of her daughter's room, silently muttering prayers of her own.

"Mum, I'm not going to die before Uncle Josef gets here." Roisin struggled with every word she spoke.

Katherine valiantly fought back the threat of tears right up until she heard the knock at the door. Opening it she fell into Josef's arms and sobbed, until Josef gently held her at arm's length.

"I think we should start, don't you?"

Katherine nodded her agreement and gestured for Mick to take a seat next to Roisin's bed as Josef laid out the sacraments.

"Pax huic dómui.  
Et ómnibus habitántibus in ea."

_Peace to this house, and all who live in it._

The ceremony had begun.

_scenebreak_

"Sir, the first wave is in position and awaiting command." One of the lower ranked members of the Order approached Pierre in the central command room. "Will his excellency be joining us soon?"

"Yes, soon," Pierre studied the map in front of him that Dubraski had drawn. He wondered how much they could rely on the man's memory, or word for that matter.

"Something wrong sir?"

Pierre shook his head and forced an even smile. "No, just going over some last minute plans."

"Of course," the other Vampire bowed his head as he took his leave.

From the other room Mick could hear the conversations that were being had. For a moment he wondered just how many Josef was saying the last rites for. One, a hundred, a thousand? How many of their kind would die today. Deep down he wished it hadn't come to this.

_Kyrie, eleison.  
Christe, eleison.  
Kyrie, Eleison._

He listened to the words being spoken. Understanding none of it, but still letting the rhythm of each sentence wash over him.

_"Per sacrosáncta humánae reparatiónis mystéria remittat tibi omnipotens Deus omnes praeséntis et futúrae vitae paenas, Paradísi portas apériat, et ad gáudia sempitérna perdúcat."_

Josef was speaking the final words then. The ceremony having begun no sooner was it over. Roisin had been anointed with sacred oil, and offered the blessed sacrament. Now all they had to do was wait for the inevitable.

"You okay?" Josef asked as they left Roisin alone with her mother, and went to change.

"I guess I thought that was going to take longer," Mick decided not to change out of his suit as he watched Josef slipping off each part of his vestments. He wanted to take the man in front of him into his arms, lay him bare on the bed before him, have him screw him through the mattress until he came shaking, covered in heat and perspiration, his fangs dug into the side of Josef's neck.

Josef caught the look on Mick's face. "Later, okay. We have work to do."

"Yeah, I know, I just…"

Mick didn't need to finish his sentence; Josef knew what he was feeling. He felt it too, that need for comfort in the midst of death. They couldn't, not now, not yet at least.

Dressed in more appropriate attire Josef was striding towards the conference room they'd converted into their headquarters then, with Mick following alongside.

"Okay, I need a situation update, are we ready to go?" He wasted no time getting down to business as those present scurried to offer their condolences.

"The first wave is in place, awaiting orders to attack," Pierre quickly bought Josef up to speed as the rest of the room buzzed with nervous energy. "We have the second wave in place ready to go once the first wave has eliminated any major threats."

"What about the bomb sweepers, have they been sent in yet?" Josef checked the position of each group mapped out on an electronic grid.

"They were sent in before dawn, no devices to speak of, but plenty of weapons stockpiled, just as we expected," Josef pointed to various areas on the grid. "Once the area is secure they're instructions are to blow the place to kingdom come.

"Good," Josef nodded his approval. "Tell the first wave to move in, take out the guards first. I want the second wave right behind them. Spare no one, if so much as a cockroach crawls across a floor I want it stepped on."

"And what about Lance himself?" Pierre asked, as orders began to be sent through.

Josef checked the screen once more, ensuring the various groups were correctly placed. There was no time for mistakes, not now.

"I want Lance captured and bought to me. Let's just say I'd like to give him the personal treatment."

"As you wish." Pierre deferred to Josef's authority then and gave the final order to go.

"Mum, where's Uncle Mick and Uncle Josef?" Roisin struggled with every breath now, pain marring her fragile features.

"They're overseeing operations in the other room," Katherine placed a warm cloth on her daughter's forehead, as the Nurse that was present increased the morphine and sedative pumped into her veins. A few moments later Roisin fell into a drug induced sleep.

"She'll probably wake again in a few hours," the nurse checked the lines in Roisin's arm, and took a moment to fluff the pillows behind her head. "I can't give her anymore medication, not without…"

Katherine held up a placating hand. "It's okay, I understand."

"If there was a Doctor here, he could write me an order, and then…"

Katherine smiled. The elderly nurse was from a bygone era, a friend of the late Father Patrick. Josef had wanted family to administer the final care to his niece, or at least as close to it as he could find.

"It's okay, we have our own ways of dealing with these things," Katherine slipped a hundred dollar note into the nurses hand, much the same as Josef had done over the past few days. "When the time comes, I don't want you in the room. You'll step out until it's done. Is that clear?"

"Yes ma'am." The nurse nodded her understanding and folded the money into her small clip purse.

Katherine returned to her daughter then, trying to soothe her with the words of an Irish lullaby.

_Over in Killarney__  
Many years ago,__  
Me Mither sang a song to me__  
In tones so sweet and low.__  
Just a simple little ditty,__  
In her good ould Irish way,__  
And l'd give the world if she could sing__  
That song to me this day._

* * *

Time seemed to have slowed. The first reports of causalities had begun to trickle in. Josef looked through the list of names, names he didn't recognise. If he was to remain as Grand Chancellor that would have to change, there would be no more sending strangers off to fight the Order's battles.

In a small bedroom at the end of the corridor three Vampires kept watch over one mortal girl. No, not a girl, Josef reminded himself. Roisin had grown into a beautiful woman, strong and vivacious, nothing resembling the frail figure that lay before them now. For a moment he wondered if they could turn back time, go back to the days before the great war with the Legion, go back to the two of them practicing sword fighting moves as he cursed Auguste Vasilescu's name whilst dodging expert blows from his niece's foil.

Josef felt Mick's hand slip into his. Pierre should be here as well, Katherine was only just holding up. He called for a messenger.

"Tell Pierre his presence is required here, Lucas can take over operations in his absence." Lucas was only one position below Pierre in the Order's ranks; he was as good a Vampire as any to keep an eye on things.

"Of course, your Excellency." The younger vampire gave a deferential nod, and then paused a moment. "May I ask sir, how is she?" His voice quavered as he asked the question, unsure if he was overstepping his bounds of office.

"I don't think she has very long," for the first time Josef let his weariness show. He placed a grateful hand on the shoulder of the fledgling in front of him. "Please, just get Pierre for me, there's someone here who needs him."

More reports, more deaths. One of the groups sent to blow up Lance's weapon stock had set the timer on the charge too soon. Five good men reduced to dust, more nameless faces cut down in the heat of battle, more lists of names that nobody recognised. They'd sent in the expendables. It would be the last time Josef swore to himself as Pierre joined the vigil.

Josef handed Pierre the list of names, the updated death reports still coming in on his hand held monitor connected to the conference room's main computer.

"Tell me how many names you actually recognise," Josef watched as Pierre scanned the list in front of him.

"A few, not many," he handed the monitor back to Josef and drew his arm tighter around Katherine's shoulder, letting his body take the weight of her exhaustion.

"And you don't think there's something wrong with that picture?"

Pierre wondered what Josef was angling at. "You don't expect to know the entire Vampire nation by name, do you?" Pierre raised a questioning eyebrow at the impossibility of that very thought.

Josef's eyes scanned the screen in front of him once more, updates still coming through, all strongholds had been taken care of, there were no more casualties to report. Now it was time for the final clean up, leave nothing and no one alive.

"Not the entire nation, no, but at least the people who work for us, and especially those we send into battle. I don't recognise even a quarter of the vamps listed here."  
"War is never fair, Josef," Pierre replied. "Most of those we send into battle will never truly be known to us. The higher ranked members of the order simply don't take care of those sorts of tasks. We give the orders; it's not up to us to know the personal life histories of those who take them. It's not it's always been."

"Not anymore," Josef sent the small screen in his hand to one side, and shifted to sit closer to Roisin on the bed. "No one should die nameless and forgotten; we're a nation, not a collection of savages."

The room was quiet then. Josef felt Mick's arms around his waist, his chin rested atop Josef's shoulder. Roisin woke briefly, panic stricken as she struggled for air.

A beeping noise alerted Josef to the most recent reports coming through. For a moment he was tempted to ignore it. He knew he didn't have that luxury.

"What is it?" Mick asked as Josef scanned the latest news.

"They've captured Lance; he's being taken to a private airfield for transport now." For a moment Josef thought they should be celebrating victory. Instead they were sitting here keeping vigil over death.

Mick squeezed Josef's hand in his. "Why don't you take a break for a while, I can keep track of any reports coming through."

"I can't," Josef started to protest, before realising Mick was right. He needed rest, several tall glasses of fresh blood and some freezer time to recuperate some of his energy. The past few days had been hard on all of them, but he was the one who would be facing Lance. Chained or not Lance was strong enough to still pose a personal risk, if not to him, then to those around him, including Mick. He would need to be dispatched as soon as he was bought in.

Wearily Josef stood up and then bent down to place a tender kiss on Mick's lips. "Call me if anything changes." He took one last look at Roisin then.

Mick returned the kiss. "I will, just leave it with me."

_scenebreak_

Two hours later Josef was being roused from cold slumber.

"They've just bought Lance in," Mick waited for Josef to dress whilst Lance's shouts of defiance could be heard ringing through the hotel.

"I take it he's not coming quietly," Josef inclined his head towards the racket he could hear at the end of the corridor.

"What else did you expect?"

"Flowers and a nice grovelling apology note."

Mick laughed for what felt like the first time in ages, "Can't see that happening somehow."

"No, me neither." Josef was all business then. "Come on; let's just get this over and done with."  
"So here comes the executioner to lop off my head," Lance sneered as Josef entered the room. "You think I'm the only one who'll come after you? Do you have any idea who you're messing with? You may think you've won this round, but there are plenty more vamps out there who are loyal to me, and they'll never stop coming, not until they have your head carved up and served on a silver platter."

"If you're talking about the vamps you had situated in various strongholds, they're all dead, along with your servants, your entire family, what was left of it at least, and quite possibly several small rodents and a few hundred cockroaches." Josef tossed with sarcastic breeze. "You see that's the thing about empty threats, they're, well, empty."

With a triumphant smile Josef stepped forward then, sword raised, and neatly severed Lance's head from his shoulders. Nicholas Dubraski knelt alongside, watching in rising horror at the clinical way the execution had been carried out.

_Shouldn't have gotten caught up in this Nicky boy, shoulda stayed out of it, the money wasn't even that good._

"Come on man, please, I gave you all that info, I don't know any other Vampires, hell I didn't even believe in you guys until recently. I'm just a petty crook, look at me, I'm sweaty and overweight, and you could take me with both hands tied behind your back. What threat do I pose to you, I have a family," Dubraski wondered when it would be a good time to beg; before he realised he'd already started to. He reached into his pocket and drew out a picture of his girlfriend. "Here, her name is Candace, we have a son together, he's only six month's old, please don't let him grow up without his father, please, I'm begging you."

Josef knelt down in front of Dubraski then, and placed a hand under the man's tear stained chin.

"You're lying," Josef regarded the man in front of him with cold precision. "You don't think I was stupid enough not to do a background check on you after you were first caught? You have no family, no friends, no one who's going to miss a cockroach like you. You've flown so far under the radar you might as well not even exist."

Dubraski looked to Mick then. "Please, man, we had a deal, you can keep the money, I don't want it, just let me leave quietly, I swear I won't say nothing to no one, who's gonna believe me anyway?"

"Funny thing is I don't remember shaking on any deal," Mick pretended to ponder the situation a while as he turned to Josef. "Do you remember us shaking on any sort of deal?"

"No, I don't remember any sort of deal being made, maybe we should ask around, see if anyone else knows anything about this mystery deal," Josef was having fun playing with their quarry. "Or maybe we should just get this over with." Josef gripped the back of Dubraski's head then, exposing his throat. "Any last words? No, wait, I think you've said enough already."

Josef gestured for Mick to join him. Dagger in hand it was Mick who knelt in front of Nicholas Dubraski now, studying the terrified man's expression with the piercing gaze of the vampire.

"You tried to murder my husband in front of me," Mick smiled, a pallid, death faced smile, and held the blade of the knife to Dubraski's throat. "It's only fair I return the favour."

With that he drew the knife across the muscles and tendons of Nicholas Dubraski's neck, severing vital blood vessels in the process. The man would bleed out in less than two minutes. They both stood watch then as Dubraski's life blood pooled on the carpet around him.

"We'll have to pay to have this cleaned up you know," Josef remarked with cold detachment.

"I'll get someone onto it," Mick slipped his arm around Josef's shoulder. "There's something else we need to do."

"Yeah, I know."

They turned their back on the carnage behind them, and made their way back to Roisin's room.

"How is she?" Josef asked as he looked at the pain wracked figure sunken into the bed.

"I don't think the medicine is working anymore," Pierre replied, Katherine was too beside herself to form a coherent answer. It was then Pierre noticed the splatters of blood that covered Mick and Josef's clothing. "I take it it's done then"

"It's done," Josef nodded and then turned his attention back to Roisin. "We promised her she wouldn't suffer." He looked to Mick, and then to Katherine. "I think it's time."

"I can't," was all Katherine could say as she sought refuge in her husband's arms.

"Have a safe trip, poppet, wherever you're going." Josef bent over his niece's frail body to place one last kiss on her forehead. Mick followed suit. Katherine and Pierre had already said their own goodbyes.

With that Josef sunk his fangs deep into the side of Roisin's throat, drawing in great draughts of opiate laced blood mixed with the saltiness of tears he couldn't stop from falling. Gradually the blood slowed to a trickle, he felt her heartbeat drop, lower now, almost imperceptible - and then finally nothing at all. For a brief moment Josef reached for his own wrist, wanting to sink his fangs into his flesh and draw out the blood that would bring her back to life. A stern hand clamped down on his shoulder, halting him in his tracks.

"Don't," Mick said, "it's not what she wanted."

Josef nodded a reluctant agreement, the warmth of Roisin's blood still coursing through him. "I think I need some fresh air," was all he said as he stood up and staggered to the front door of the hotel, leaving Katherine and Pierre behind to mourn in their own way.

Mick joined Josef seated on a bench outside. Across the road an old couple was feeding the local birdlife scraps of bread.

Josef gestured towards them, "That will never be Roisin you know, she'll never grow up, and she'll never get old."

Mick drew an arm around Josef's shoulder. "It'll never be us either."

"Does that bother you?" Josef settled into Mick's embrace.

Mick's brow furrowed, "You've never thought of it? The fact that we'll never get to experience what it's like to grow old together."

Josef reached for Mick's hand, and squeezed it in his. "Why settle for growing old when we can grow ancient together."

Mick pressed his lips against Josef's own. Josef was right, they had all of eternity ahead of them.


	21. Epilogue

Epilogue

"Uncle Josef, tell me a story." A six year old Miriam tugged at her Uncle's sleeve.

"Isn't it your Uncle Mick's turn?" Josef set the financial times to one side, and regarded a determined looking Miriam standing in front of him, face flushed with determination

"I want you to tell it, Uncle Josef," Miriam protested in her small child's voice. "I want you to tell me the one about the princess who battled all the monsters and saved the friendly vampires."

"Alright then," Josef relented as he lifted Miriam onto his lap and waited for her to settle into his arms. "Come here, and I'll tell you the story of your Mother's life".


End file.
